


Collision

by imaginentertain



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginentertain/pseuds/imaginentertain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you need to face up to the consequences. Or how Kurt and Blaine's lives collided in the most unusual of circumstances</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Klaine Reverse Bang fest of 2012.

Art : [Full artwork here](http://volsura.tumblr.com/post/26442666786/kurt-blaine-reversebang-2012-tumblr-lj-july%22)

====================================

**Collision**

He was late. And not in a white rabbit way, he was late in a "they are never going to work with me again" way. All that time and effort and hard work was going to be for nothing because of traffic and accidents and diversions and the whole universe conspiring against him.

Kurt swore under his breath for what seemed like the hundredth time as he put his faith in his GPS, taking back streets and detours through what seemed like every inch of Los Angeles. Despite the fact he'd allowed over an hour for the thirty-minute drive he was apparently fifteen minutes away from a meeting which started twenty minutes ago.

"Call Rupert," he commanded, eyes flickering to the phone in the hands-free unit to make sure the call was being made.

"Kurt, where the hell are you?" Rupert's voice rang clear through the speaker system.

"Stuck in traffic," he sighed. "Are they still there?"

"Yeah, but only just. Want me to rearrange? I can tell them that something came up? Make up whatever bullshit you need?"

"No, we need to do this today."

"I know, kid, but if you're not going to make it—"

"I'll make it!" Kurt snapped. "Look... start without me."

"But, but..." Rupert stammered. "This is your baby."

"This is _our_ baby," Kurt corrected. "You know the show as well as I do."

"But you're the name behind it."

"And you're the brains."

"I don't think they're going to listen to me," Rupert said, his voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial level. "I swear one of them looks at me as if I'm about to recolonise your butts."

Kurt laughed suddenly and honestly and he felt a bit of the tension seep from his shoulders. "Well then distract them."

"How?"

"I don't know. Give them your speech about how we've destroyed your language or something. That always takes at least half an hour."

"I do like that argument," Rupert mused. "Because what did the letter U ever do to you guys? It's in your country's name for pity's sake. Although I do like the idea of calling it the Nited States. Call it compensation for my homeland."

"Rupert, I don't care if you have to start singing _God Save The Queen_ at the top of your voice, run through the building with a marker pen to 'correct' their spellings, or if you do a striptease, just keep them there. I'm... twelve minutes away."

"You want me to strip off in front of the guys who run the biggest theatre companies in LA. The guys who you want to put on your show," Rupert said.

"You have the body for it, and you certainly have the lack of inhibitions," Kurt pointed out.

"This is true. Right, kid. I'll buy you those twelve minutes. But if I'm arrested you're bailing me out and if they deport me back to England—"

"Then I will miss you," Kurt said. "I should go. See you soon."

The call ended and Kurt shook his head a little. He felt a bit better about Rupert being there; the guy wasn't just his agent but one of his closest friends, and he also knew how to get what he wanted. Hell, he'd gotten Kurt all those years ago.

Rupert had singled Kurt out, zoned straight in on him after his opening night of his first show, and declared "I want you". At first Kurt had thought he was being hit on until Rupert had laughed and outsed himself as straight. (Most people thought he was in denial but Kurt had met his girlfriend, Anne. He'd even stayed over at theirs and as the guest room was next to the master he could attest that Rupert was _not_ gay.) No, he was an agent and he knew talent. He wanted talent and he wanted Kurt.

At first Kurt had declined, choosing to stay with the team he'd signed with right out of NYADA, but Rupert was persistent, even to the point where he'd taken it upon himself to arrange a casting session for Kurt and just emailed him the details. On advice from Rachel Kurt had gone so that he didn't get a bad reputation. He landed the role – a lead – in a short run play in an off-Broadway show. A role which won him rave reviews and the attention of certain people.

In the end he'd been worn down and signed to Rupert's company – Colonial Talent – and he'd not looked back since. Somewhere along the lines they'd even become friends.

Things were good for Kurt Hummel. He had everything he'd ever dreamed about. He'd performed on Broadway to critical acclaim. He got to live and breathe New York City. He had a spacious apartment, a closet full of designer clothes (most of them exclusives or preview lines), and now he had his own show. One he'd written himself. One that had debuted to critical acclaim off Broadway six months before and now he was in LA with the chance to bring it across the country.

Kurt Hummel was A Name. People knew who he was; his Twitter account had over a million followers (a fact which freaked him out on a daily basis) and his various fan pages online were maintained by a group Rupert had selected especially. In short, since signing with Colonial every dream and plan Kurt had ever had for his life had come true or was coming true.

Well, almost all of them.

Instead of dwelling on the one thing that hadn't gone his way Kurt was focussing on what was good. His star was on the rise in New York which was giving him opportunities and freedoms that he'd never expected this side of his thirtieth birthday.

The GPS instructed him to take the next left and he did so, easing the car carefully around the blind corner into the unfamiliar street. It was just like almost every other one, lined with parked cars outside office buildings and shops. Another street in another town, nothing special about any of it.

Until someone ran out between two cars and right in front of him.

Kurt slammed on the brakes but he still heard the _thump_ of a body impacting with the front bumper.

For a second he sat there, his whole body frozen.

_That did not just happen. There is no way that just happened._

By the time he'd managed to think of something other than that he reached for the buckle, his hands shaking. Logically he knew it wasn't his fault. He wasn't even close to the limit, the guy had run out in front of him, he had no way of avoiding him... But it had still happened, he'd still hit someone.

"Oh god, are you OK?" he said as he got out of the car. "I..."

The first thing that registered was that the guy was moving, even groaning softly, so Kurt's sense of relief was immediate. Then he turned over, hissing in pain, and Kurt's relief gave way to shock.

"Blaine?"

 

~~

 

He was late, and not in the white rabbit way. Trying to keep the sides from slipping away Blaine fumbled for his phone which was in his jeans pocket.

Then nature took over.

It took a moment for Blaine to process what had happened. He remembered the papers spilling from his hands, he remembered going to grab the last few which were flying out into the road. Then he heard a thud – well, two of them. One when the car hit something and one when that something hit the road. It took him a few seconds to realise that the something was him – his body – and then there was the pain.

Oh god, _the pain_.

He rolled over into a sitting position, hissing as his leg felt like he was trying to wrench it from its joints.

"Blaine?"

Suddenly he forgot the pain in his shock as he looked up into the face of someone he'd not seen in years. Someone whose face, whose eyes and whose voice he couldn't forget, no matter how much he got knocked about (literally as well as metaphorically).

"Kurt?"

"What are you doing here?" Kurt asked then caught himself at the stupidity of the question when he noticed Blaine's leg. "Shit, Blaine, are you..." Kurt began, stopping when Blaine groaned in pain. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"...Yeah," Blaine admitted, looking at his ankle and the foot sticking out at an unnatural angle. "Um... little help?"

Kurt was still frozen, his mind running through a hundred different processes. He needed to call Rupert about the meeting, he needed to report this, he should probably call his lawyer just in case, and he was not thinking about the fact that he'd just hit his ex-boyfriend. He'd just hit him and hurt him and now, oh god, there was going to be actual physical contact wasn't there?

"Kurt, I need help," Blaine said, bringing him back to reality. "Unless you want to look even worse in front of the spectators?"

Kurt's head whipped around and he noticed that a small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk. The logical part of his brain told him that he needed to get out of public as soon as possible so he willed his body to move. Crouching beside Blaine he felt a wave of awkward that he'd not felt since he was seventeen years old and he was naked in front of this boy for the first time (of many). He couldn't help but glance down, afraid that this was one of those dreams where he was actually naked.

Thankfully not.

"Um..." he hummed before Blaine lifted his arm up and carefully slung it over Kurt's shoulders. Once he was braced Kurt was able to lift him into his arms, using the car for leverage (and trying not to think that it was the cause of all of this) he pulled them both to a standing position. "You OK?"

"Apart from the broken ankle?" Blaine quipped, inhaling softly as pain shot up his leg.

"Apart from that, yeah," Kurt said, fighting to keep the tone light. "I mean, are you hurting anywhere else?"

"Mostly just my dignity I think."

"Did you ever have much of that?" Kurt quipped without thinking about it. "I mean there was a lot of Katy Perry in your repertoire."

"Very funny," Blaine said as they walked/hopped to the back door. He leaned against the car while Kurt got it open and then carefully climbed in, laying down on the back seat and trying not to remember all the times this happened and Kurt would crawl in after him.

"Buckle up," Kurt said, "don't want you..."

"Getting into another accident?" Blaine finished when Kurt trailed off in embarrassment.

"Blaine, I... I'm sorry. I tried to stop and it was all so quick—"

"I should have looked," Blaine interrupted quickly. "I was the idiot who ran out into the road."

"What was so important?"

"Audition sides. Guess I won't get a call-back for this one," he sighed.

"I'm... sorry," Kurt said again.

Neither of them were entirely sure what he was apologising for.

~~

 

**Kurt Hummel  
 _09:42am_  
** Got into an accident. Had to go to the ER. Can you reschedule? 

 

Kurt's phone burst into life a few seconds after he sent the text. "I'm fine," he answered.

"Bastard," Rupert said. "Least you could be is hurt or injured in some way. Give me something to work with."

"If it's any consolation the person I hit is hurt."

"Shit, Kurt. You did what?"

"Not my fault, the guy ran out in front of me."

"He admitted to that?"

"I'm not going to be sued, Rupert, if that's what you're worried about."

"Good. Because you're worth a lot now."

"He wouldn't."

"What?"

"The guy I hit," Kurt sighed. "I... know him. Knew him."

"Explain."

"It's Blaine."

"Blaine?" Rupert asked. "When did we meet him?"

"You didn't. I met him in high school."

"In high...? Blaine? As in your _ex-boyfriend_ Blaine?"

"The very same."

"Let me get this straight," Rupert said carefully. "Your ex-boyfriend, the one who you broke up with; the one who you hurt so badly that it 'would have been better if I'd run him over' to use your words; the guy who you haven't seen in person since he went off to college at the end of your Freshman year at NYADA; the one who then moved to the other side of the country, just happened to be in LA at the same time as you and you just happened to hit him? There isn't a single jury in the land who would believe you, you know that?"

"It's Blaine. He wouldn't—"

"Get him to sign a disclaimer," Rupert instructed. "A waiver. Something. Anything. You need to cover yourself, Kurt, otherwise we're both screwed."

"Rupert, it'll be fine, I... Hey!" he protested as his phone was lifted from his hand. He turned around to face the thief, expecting to see a doctor or nurse. Except it wasn't.

"Care to explain why my little brother is in hospital?" Cooper demanded, ending the call and tossing the phone back to Kurt. "Breaking his heart wasn't enough?"

"It was an accident, Coop."

"Cooper," he corrected. "And sure it was."

"Ask him, he admitted to it."

"Because you want to cover your ass."

"No, Coop... er, I promise. It was an accident. I'd never—"

"Sure," he snapped. "We'll see what the police have to say about it."

"Cooper..." Kurt called after him but he was ignored.

 

~~

 

"Coop," Blaine said, trying to push himself up on the bed to meet his brother's enthusiastic hug. "You didn't have to come."

"Of course I did."

"You'll miss your flight."

"I've got time," Cooper said. "I've always got time to be here for my little brother."

"Thanks," Blaine sighed, letting himself drop back onto the bed.

"I saw _him_ outside."

"What did you say to him?" Blaine asked in a panic. "Coop—"

"He hit you with his freakin' car! Broke your ankle and made you miss the audition. And like you'll be able to work any time soon with a cast. Hey, maybe you can go for that new medical show on Fox? It's supposed to be the new _House_ or something."

"I think I'm going to be out of action for a few weeks," Blaine sighed. "I'll have a cast on for a while and they're talking about some physical therapy for the ligament damage."

"We should sue."

"We are not suing."

"We'd get millions. He's rich now, I read it somewhere. Wikipedia I think."

"We are still not suing."

"Bankrupt him."

"Cooper!" Blaine yelled to get his attention. "It was my fault."

"No, you've been crossing the road since you were a kid. You can do that fine."

"It was still my fault."

"He made you say that."

"Coop, I dropped my sides and ran out into the road to get them."

"Ooo, good cover story. Kurt's got imagination. Believable, simple, it would work on anyone but me."

Blaine sighed. There were not enough meds to deal with this. "I'm fine, Coop. Really."

"Fine for now, but what are you going to do when you get out of here?"

"Rest," Blaine said.

"Where?"

"...The apartment?"

"On the sixth floor? With a broken elevator?"

"...Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"You're not cancelling your flight."

"Oh of course not," Cooper shrugged. "This is my big break." He smirked. "Yours too I guess?"

"I'll be fine, Coop."

"Of course you will."

There was something about the way that Cooper was grinning that made Blaine very, very wary. But then his name was called and he was taken away to have his cast put on and there was nothing more said. When he returned Cooper and Kurt were waiting for him; Cooper had an unmistakable air of smug satisfaction about him, Kurt looked... worried?

"What?" Blaine asked as he was handed a pair of crutches by the nurse.

"You good to go?" Cooper asked.

"Yeah, got a few follow-up appointments but it's rest and some PT for the next few weeks. Now what is going on?"

"Why would anything be going on?" Cooper asked innocently.

"Because I know you. What?"

"We were talking," Kurt sighed after Cooper nudged him – somewhat forcefully – with his shoulder. "Cooper said it's not really an option to stay at his and... I've got a condo that I'm renting while I'm staying in LA, ground floor level, spare room. You could stay with me." There was another shove. " _Should_ stay with me. Because it's only right."

Blaine looked over at Cooper who still looked very smug and he sighed. "Coop?"

"It's a great idea, isn't it?" Cooper said. "Now I can go off to Vancouver and become the star we always knew I was and you are going to stay with Kurt here and he is going to cater to your every whim until that cast is off. And then we can say no more about it."

"Coop," Blaine said, his tone heavy with meaning.

"His idea," Cooper said, pointing at Kurt. "And it's a very good one."

"Kurt?"

"It makes sense," Kurt said. "You're going to need help with... things, and from the sound of things Cooper's apartment isn't exactly crutch friendly."

"You don't have to do this," Blaine said.

Cooper glared at Kurt.

"Apparently I do," Kurt said. "And more than that... I want to. This was my fault, Blaine."

"...OK," Blaine sighed. "Yeah, thanks Kurt."

"Go get the car," Cooper ordered, waiting until they were alone before turning to his brother. "Listen, you have a good few weeks before that cast comes off. That's a few weeks to make him pay."

"Cooper..."

"Make him pay, little brother. Hurt him like he hurt you."

"It was years ago—"

"And it still hurts, I know it does. I hear you sometimes and I know you don't want to talk about it but I know that there's a part of you... When you two split up you told me that a part of you wanted to get back at him, to make him suffer."

"I was angry."

"And you're not now?"

"I..." Blaine stalled, thinking it over.

"Look, you've got this chance. He broke up with you, Blaine. He promised he'd never say goodbye, that you'd never lose him, and then before the end of his first year he just drops you for some other guy."

"He never said that they were..."

"Why else would he dump you out of the blue like that?" Cooper asked. "Think it over, OK? Chances like this come out because the Universe commands it. Open yourself up to it, Blaine, let it work through you."

"I'll think about it," Blaine said, knowing that when Cooper started there was very little way of stopping him.

 

~~

 

Kurt pulled up outside the entrance just as his phone started to ring. "Yes, I'm here," he answered.

"And where would 'here' be?"

"Stephen, sorry. I thought you were someone else."

"Clearly."

"Sorry."

"So... How's LA?"

"It's—"

" _Run into anyone_?" Stephen asked pointedly.

Kurt sighed. "How'd you find out? Rupert?"

"No, I saw it on YouTube."

"What?" Kurt exclaimed.

"Welcome to the twenty first century. Something happens, someone's there with a camera phone, it's on YouTube and getting a thousand hits within hours."

"Shit," Kurt said.

"Rupert's getting it taken down, I've saved the pages just in case something comes of it. They'll be in your inbox later."

"Thank you," Kurt breathed.

"Why didn't _you_ tell me?"

"Because it happened so quickly," Kurt said. "Blaine ran out, I hit him, we've been at the hospital ever since. I haven't had the chance."

"Blaine?"

"What?"

"You hit Blaine? The Blaine? Your ex?"

"I thought you said it was on... You didn't recognise him? Stephen, he's not that different since high school. OK, so he's not as addicted to hair gel now..."

"No, there wasn't a clear shot of his face. So that's Blaine," Stephen said.

"What?"

"I never knew what he looked like."

"Oh. I... forgot."

"Yeah," Stephen said. "You do that."

"I missed the meeting."

"I know. I spoke to Rupert."

"OK, so what don't you know?"

"What you're doing now," Stephen said. "Are you rescheduling?"

"I hope so."

"Plans for tonight?"

"I..." Kurt began as the back door to his SUV was opened.

"In you go, Blaine," Cooper said, helping his brother into the car.

"Blaine," Stephen said quietly on the other end of the phone.

"Stephen..."

"You're busy. I'll... Call me later. When you get a moment."

"Ste—" Kurt began but the phone went dead. He looked up when Cooper shut the door and walked away, giving Blaine a small wave as he did.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, meeting his gaze in the rear view mirror. "Everything OK?"

"Yeah," he lied. "It's fine. You ready to go?"

"Yeah. Cooper will bring over my things when I text him your address, then he has to go and catch his flight to Vancouver."

"You're OK with this? Staying with me I mean?"

"It makes sense, but if you're doing this because Cooper threatened to sue or—"

"I'm not, I promise," Kurt said quickly. "Well, he may have threatened it—"

"I wouldn't."

"I know. But I'm still responsible for this. Let me help, please? I owe you that."

 _And more_ , Blaine thought, but he just nodded.

 

~~

  


 

Kurt sighed as he skim read the pages of comments left on the video. By the time they got back to the condo the video had been pulled – but as this was the internet it had already been reposted to various blogs and was still spreading. Rupert had released a statement saying that Kurt Hummel had been involved in a no-fault accident and that all parties involved were fine, but people still wanted details.

He didn't dare look at his reply feed. For every person who accepted that it was an accident there were three who were demanding everything from his immediate imprisonment to revocation of his licence.

He went back to his emails and saw one from a theatre in New York. A quick scan of the contents told him everything.

_...saw the video..._

_...can appreciate it is a difficult time..._

_...doesn't look good..._

_...need to consider our image..._

_...until this is sorted we cannot be seen to be associated with you..._

_...hope you understand..._

Shutting his laptop screen he got up and walked through to where Blaine was settled on the couch. "You OK?"

"Yeah, thanks," Blaine said. "Are you?" he asked noticing the look on Kurt's face.

"The internet hates me."

Blaine gave a short laugh at the statement before biting his lip. "Sorry."

"I feel weird asking, but can you Tweet or something, tell them that you ran out without looking? I'm getting some serious heat from this..."

"Sure, I'll get around to it."

"Get... get around to it? Blaine, my career is on the line. I've already had one theatre tell me that they can't be associated with me while this is going on. Please. I need your help on this."

Blaine turned his attention back to the television, ending the conversation.

"Blaine, _please_... I need your help on this. I could lose everything." Kurt watched as Blaine sighed and reached for his phone. "Thank you," Kurt said. "I'll... make a start on dinner."

 

**Blaine Anderson  
 _6.27pm_  
** I'm a horrible, horrible person. 

**Cooper Anderson  
 _6.31pm_  
** I take it this means that you've decided to act on my idea of making him pay. 

**Blaine Anderson  
 _6.32pm_  
** I'm a horrible, horrible person. He's suffering. 

**Cooper Anderson  
 _6.34pm_  
** Probably no more than you were years ago. 

**Blaine Anderson  
 _6.37pm_  
** Coop? 

**Cooper Anderson  
 _6.38pm_  
** Yeah? 

**Blaine Anderson  
 _6.44pm_  
** What would you say if I said that I think I never stopped loving him? 

**Cooper Anderson  
 _6.45pm_  
** One word. Charlie. 

**Blaine Anderson  
 _6.47pm_  
** I refer you to my first text. I'm a horrible, horrible person. 

 

~~

That evening Kurt ran a quick search of Twitter to find Blaine's account. Once he found it he scanned his timeline for the message, planning to retweet it to his own followers.

He'd not mentioned Kurt, or the fact that he was partly responsible for what happened. In fact it almost sounded like Kurt had screwed things up for him.

Now everything was screwed for him too.

 

====================================

**Impact**

To his credit Rupert waited until seven the next morning before calling. Far too often there had been calls in the middle of the night ("I'm still on GMT, deal with it.") about deals or developments or problems which apparently couldn't wait until Kurt had indulged in some coffee first.

His phone had sprung into life the second he got out of bed and he grabbed it from the nightstand. "Don't you ever sleep?" he asked, shuffling out in search of the coffee he knew he'd need. "Yes, I saw Blaine's Tweets... What? No. He's in bed I think... Well I'm not his keeper. And even when we were dating I couldn't exactly make him do anything... Don't you dare!" he laughed, cutting off Rupert's smutty comment before he could make it. "I know it doesn't look good... yeah, I got the emails too... No, Rupert... I know, I asked... Well you need to make them listen... It was an _accident_... " Kurt sighed before he snapped, "Actually no, it was his fault, he ran out... Isn't there anything we can do?..."

Sitting on the couch, just out of view, Blaine listened to Kurt's end of the conversation and his heart sank. He'd been unable to sleep and so had gotten up over an hour ago. Obviously Kurt was so caught up in his call that he'd not noticed him. He remained quiet throughout the rest of the call, listening to Kurt's voice switch between angry and frustrated, all of it tinged with a bit of fear right at the end that you'd only know was there if you knew Kurt.

And Blaine knew him very well.

The gnawing feeling of guilt was back, stronger than ever. Blaine felt sick and, knowing it had nothing to do with the strong pain medication he was on, reached into his pants pocket for his phone.

 

 

Slipping his phone into his pocket he grabbed his crutch again and got up, waiting until he was by the hallway door before saying, "Morning."

"Hey," Kurt said quietly, still staring at his phone. "Sleep well?"

"Off and on," Blaine admitted.

"Need anything?"

"I've taken some of the meds, when they kick in I'll be right."

"Coffee?"

"Now that would be fantastic," Blaine sighed, dropping into a nearby chair.

As Kurt went through to the kitchen Blaine heard his cell beep rapidly. When Kurt returned with his coffee Blaine saw that the smile on his face was real.

"Thank you," Kurt said quietly.

"I should have done it last night, I'm sorry."

"Better late than never."

"I was angry," Blaine admitted.

"...Understandable."

"Not just about the accident."

"Blaine..."

"Cooper said... He suggested I should make you... suffer."

"Because I...?"

"Yeah."

"Right." Kurt glanced down, unsure what to do with this information.

"It's not who I am, Kurt. It's never been. I hate hurting you, even if you... It's not fair."

"Do you want to go? We can make some other arrangement if—"

"Can we just start again?" Blaine asked.

"Before the accident?" Kurt joked.

"Is that what you want? If you'd rather I wasn't here—"

"No, Blaine, this is..." Kurt sighed and shook his head. "If you want to stay that's fine. You need help, I have the space..."

"And that's it? A sense of... obligation?"

"What more do you want, Blaine?"

"I... honestly don't know," he admitted. "But I don't want to be here if you don't want me, if you're..."

"Your brother doesn't scare me that much," Kurt laughed. "Stay. Please."

"...Yeah, OK. That'd be great, thanks." Blaine's smile then turned into a grin. "Because I don't quite know how I'm going to manage the shower by myself..."

"I... wait... Blaine..." Kurt stammered, frowning when Blaine started to laugh. "What?"

"I'll be fine, really. Just a hand covering the cast will be fine."

"Watch I don't put a bag over your head," Kurt muttered.

 

~~

 

For the next two weeks they fell into an uneasy pattern which became easier out as time went on. Blaine mastered the crutches and therefore any real assistance from Kurt was limited to carrying and lifting, driving him to PT, cooking and sharing dinners and late night movie marathons.

And Kurt was trying very, very hard not to fall for him again.

 

~~

 

"You're still up."

Blaine's voice made him jump and Kurt looked up from the laptop. "Script revisions. Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No, couldn't sleep."

"Ankle hurting?"

"Not hurting really, just... uncomfortable. Needed to get up and move about."

"You need anything?" Kurt asked. "Drink?"

"I'll be fine, I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"I should have gone to bed ages ago," Kurt said, glancing at the clock on his display.

"You always did get absorbed in your work and lose track of time."

"Some things never really change."

"I guess not," Blaine smiled. "So, how's it going?"

"Good. Rupert's pretty sure we're going to get to bring the show here." When Blaine's brow creased in confusion he continued. "He's been doing the meetings."

"Kurt! If you need to go to a meeting or do some work then you should go. I don't need babysitting."

"Yes, you do," Kurt said. "You make the worst patient."

"Since when?" Blaine asked, hobbling his way over to the couch and perching on the arm.

"Our first summer together," Kurt pointed out. "You got that cold and you were 'dying'," he mocked. "I spent days trying to get you to stay in bed and rest."

"Wasn't the first time you tried to get me to stay in bed," Blaine quipped, his mouth crooking up in a grin.

"My motives that summer were totally innocent."

"If you say so."

"Hey," Kurt laughed, giving Blaine's shoulder a gentle shove. "I can be innocent. You didn't corrupt me that much."

"Not through lack of trying."

"We were as bad as each other."

"We were teenagers," Kurt said.

"We were in love."

"Yeah," Kurt said quietly. "We were."

"I thought..." Blaine took a deep breath before continuing. "I thought I was going to love you for the rest of my life."

"I thought that too," Kurt said. He'd moved closer and now was right in front of Blaine. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"Me too."

"What have you got to be sorry about?"

"I didn't exactly make it easy for you. Obviously."

"Blaine..."

"What was it? Really?"

"Blaine, please..."

"It's been years, Kurt. Seven of them. You can tell me. You should tell me."

"I..." Kurt began, his eyes locking onto Blaine's.

They were caught up in the moment, both of them almost holding their breath. For a brief moment there was every possibility, every option, every dream they'd had and never dared to admit to themselves since their breakup. A moment to start it all again.

"Kurt," Blaine whispered.

"I have a boyfriend," Kurt blurted out.

And the moment was gone.

 

~~

 

Sleep eluded him. No matter how hard he tried, whatever meditation technique he used, how many times he tried to clear his mind he couldn't find peace. Eventually he gave up and just as the sun came up he climbed out of bed and headed through to the kitchen.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Blaine asked, startling him for the second time in twelve hours.

"What?"

"About your boyfriend."

"Because... I don't know," he admitted, climbing up onto the breakfast stool. "At first it didn't seem to matter and then when it did, when I should... I couldn't."

"You didn't want to," Blaine said. "I know you, Kurt. I don't think you've changed that much."

"...No. I didn't want to tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because..."

"Same reason I didn't tell you about Charlie," Blaine said. "Although I don't think you'd call him my boyfriend. Not yet anyway. It's... early."

"It's not for me. Me and Stephen."

"Does he know? About me?"

"I spoke to him at the hospital."

"I meant about _us_."

"...Yeah."

"He OK with this?"

"Why wouldn't he be?"

"I don't know," Blaine admitted. "I... haven't told Charlie. He knows about my ankle but..."

"Where is he?"

"San Francisco."

"And he's not come down?"

"I asked him not to."

"Why not?" Kurt asked.

"Because..." Blaine inhaled deeply and looked down at the counter. "Because it was easier."

"What are we doing?" Kurt asked.

"We need to stop," Blaine said. "We can't... We can't do this, Kurt. Whatever this is, we can't."

"I know," Kurt said quietly.

"But... We were friends first. Good friends. Maybe we can...?"

"Friends?"

"I don't see why not. Unless...?"

"No. Friends. We can... do that. Be that."

"You sure?"

Kurt looked over to see Blaine was looking at him, his beautiful eyes brimming with... hope? "Yeah," he said. "We can do that. Or at least try."

"OK. Friends," Blaine said. "Now that we know where we stand we can move on. Because in the spirit of friendship, can I be honest?"

"...Sure," Kurt said hesitantly.

"I've missed you," Blaine said quietly.

"Oh. I missed you too," Kurt smiled.

"Really?"

"Really."

 

~~

 

**Blaine Anderson  
 _9.03am_  
** What is my life? 

**Cooper Anderson  
 _10.06am_  
** Is that a trick question? 

**Blaine Anderson  
 _10.10am_  
** Kurt and I... We're trying the friends thing. 

**Cooper Anderson  
 _10.11am_  
** That didn't work when you were in high school. 

**Blaine Anderson  
 _10.13am_  
** We're not in high school anymore. 

**Cooper Anderson  
 _10.25am_  
** You still love him. Don't you? 

 

"Coop," Blaine said in a warning tone when his brother answered the phone. "It's—"

"I thought we had a plan, squirt."

"Don't call me that, and you had a plan. Not me."

"He deserved—"

"No, Coop, he didn't. Your plan nearly cost him his career. Yeah, he hurt me but I got over it."

Cooper said nothing.

"I did, Coop."

"You didn't get over him though."

"That's different."

"I don't see how, little brother. You love him and now you're there with him and you've probably got some plan to win him back—"

"He has a boyfriend," Blaine interrupted.

"Steal him back then."

"I'm not going to be that guy."

"Why not? You still love him."

"He doesn't love me. Not anymore. And not for a really long time."

"Have you spoken to him about what happened?"

"What? And drag up the past? What would be the point—? He's moved on, he's got a boyfriend, I've got—"

"Blaine," Cooper said firmly. "This is me."

"Friends. We're just friends, Coop. Or at least we're going to try. It's only for a few weeks anyway. My cast will come off and I can do stairs again, Kurt's play is likely coming to LA so once that's done he'll be back to New York. We'll be the friends who comment on each other's Facebook status, text each other once in a while, maybe meet up at the odd McKinley reunion. And we can make it work like that. Or if we don't then at least we tried, at least I can say that..." Blaine sighed. "At least, eh?"

"Is that what you want? Honestly?"

"Why did you suggest making him pay?"

"Because watching you, that summer you two split up? That hurt. You were breaking apart and there was nothing I could do to fix it."

"I never thanked you for that, did I? For what you did?"

"And what was that exactly?" Cooper asked.

"Set me on this path. Showed me the bright lights of Los Angeles, got me the experience I needed for my college application. Gave me somewhere to live when I came back..."

"I gave you somewhere to run to," Cooper cut across.

"I needed that."

"And what do you need now?"

"I need... I need this cast to come off in time for an audition my agent is putting me up for in a couple of weeks."

"Anything good?"

"Maybe," Blaine smiled.

"Tell me."

"I'm not jinxing it. Tell me about Vancouver – how goes the shoot?"

The distraction was enough; Cooper didn't shut up for half an hour.

 

~~

 

Kurt burst through the door, almost breathless with shock. "We signed!" he almost yelled at Blaine.

"What?"

"We signed. It's happening. _Moments Passed_ is coming to LA. I've done it. I've... actually done it."

"Kurt, that's... that's amazing!" Blaine said, reaching for his crutches so he could get up.

"Don't you dare move," Kurt ordered, producing a bottle of champagne from behind his back. "Rupert sent it, with his love and best wishes, and demanded that I go home and... share it with an old friend."

"Is that what I am now?" Blaine asked. "Old?"

"Shut up," Kurt laughed, dropping his bag onto a chair and holding the bottle out to Blaine. "Open that, I'll get the glasses."

"You deserve this, Kurt. You were always going to take Broadway by storm."

"Planned to be _on_ the stage, not behind it," Kurt called from the kitchen.

"Best laid plans," Blaine said as he removed the foil and twisted the wire. "But would you change any of it?"

"No," Kurt said, returning with two glasses. "I love it. I love... all of it."

"Then we have more to celebrate."

"Like what?"

"Everything," Blaine smiled, twisting the cork and breaking the seal with a pop. "You have a life you love and not many people can say that."

"What about you?" Kurt asked.

"Me? I'm just like every other Hollywood actor, waiting for my big break."

"It'll happen, I know it. You're good, Blaine. Broadway good. You could be on stage every night, singing and acting. Standing ovations, admirers at every show."

"I thought about it," Blaine said. "It's tempting."

"So why not?"

"Because..." _You're there._

"Trust me, I know my shows. They're crying out for people like you."

"Isn't this meant to be your night? Your celebration?" Blaine asked, pouring two glasses. "To you, your show, and every opportunity that is coming your way."

"Take it easy with that, not sure it will mix well with your painkillers," Kurt laughed as they sipped their drinks.

"So tell me about your show," Blaine asked, settling back against the cushions and lifting his leg so he could rest his cast on the coffee table.

"What?"

" _Moments Passed_. Tell me about it. What's it about?"

"Oh, I... Usual stuff. Relationships, friendships, all to a backdrop of up-tempo music."

"Kurt!" Blaine protested. "Don't make me Google it. That would just tell me the plot, the songs. I want to hear it from you. What is it about?"

"It's about... escape," Kurt said. "I started writing it during my Sophomore year at NYADA. I never thought about making anything of it really. It was just a way to... express myself, I guess. Use the skills they were teaching me and work through some things."

"Does that include me?" Blaine asked bluntly.

"What?"

"You said it was about escape, about working through some things. Does that include me?"

"I'd be lying if I said no," Kurt said. But not... not like that. You won't find a Blaine Anderson character in the cast list."

"So where will you find me?"

"Opening number," Kurt replied instantly. " _Time has changed, I'm not that boy / gone are my childhood dreams of joy_."

"Childhood dreams?"

"It's the sentiment," Kurt said. "The song... it's about moving on from my childhood, growing up, becoming my own person."

"Right," Blaine said quietly.

" _A small town taught me all great things / A love which helped my heart to sing_ ," Kurt sang softly. "I... did love you, Blaine. So much."

"I know," Blaine said, meeting Kurt's gaze. "I loved you too. So much. But they were right, weren't they? High school romances..."

"True," Kurt sighed. "But they got one thing right. You never forget your first."

"No," Blaine smiled, "you don't. Wouldn't want to either."

"Even after... how I ended it?"

"I'll be honest, I... It hurt, but I know why you did it that way."

"It was the coward's way out."

"Would you have been able to do it face to face?"

"I cried for two hours straight writing that letter," Kurt admitted. "God only knows how I'd have been if..."

"Two hours?"

"What? You thought I just dashed it off? Five minutes, into the mail?"

"No, I just... I knew it would have been hard for you, I just never..."

"And if I'd called you..."

"I get it. I got it years ago. Took me a while but I got it. Even wrote you replies."

"I never got any," Kurt said.

"I never mailed them. Well, Cooper didn't."

"Yeah, I heard you... came here after."

"I wrote dozens of letters, gave them to Cooper. He said that if I still wanted to mail it after two days then he would give it back to me."

"What was in them?"

"Lots of things. I was... angry, hurt, scared."

"Scared?"

"Scared of having a future without you. We had plans, we had so many ideas and everything I thought I was going to do involved you, involved us. I had to redesign my life," he said. "I had to rethink everything. Cooper helped me get into San Francisco University as a late admission... And I hated you for that.

"Then I calmed down and I accepted what you said and I was just sad. Then back to angry. Then my finest hour came when I wrote this four-page letter just begging you to take me back, that I would do anything and everything to fix whatever needed to be fixed.

"That was one of the last ones. Cooper and I had a little ceremony after that when we burnt them. Every last one of mine and then finally... yours. It was a way of letting go. Letting you go."

"I'm sorry, Blaine. I... I am so, so sorry. I should have done things so differently."

"Like how? How do you break up with someone and not have it hurt?"

"Knowing I was hurting you," Kurt said before draining his glass, "that was the worst part. Knowing what I was going to do to you. Everything I promised you I wouldn't."

"It's OK, Kurt."

"It's not," Kurt said, his voice hitching slightly.

Blaine put his glass down before holding out his hand to Kurt. After a few seconds he took it, sliding into his grip. For a second they held hands, their grip firm. Then, when Kurt bit on his lower lip, Blaine pulled gently. Kurt offered no resistance, just moved across the couch. It took a little arranging but soon they were wrapped around each other, Kurt resting on Blaine's chest as they held each other for the first time in too long.

"I'm sorry," Kurt muttered into Blaine's tee. "I thought that..."

"Thought what?" Blaine asked.

Kurt lifted his head to look at Blaine, but whatever he'd planned to say he never said. Instead he surged forward the remaining distance and kissed him.


	2. Chapter 2

====================================

**Contact**

It took Blaine a few seconds to catch up with his body and respond to the kiss. His mouth opened as his hand flew to the back of Kurt's neck, pulling him down, in, impossibly closer as his body arched up against the intimate weight on top of him.

_Dear Blaine, I know that this is the coward's way out but I know that I couldn't do this face to face. I know that if I saw you, if we were able to touch each other? Then I would never be able to say this. I have thought long and hard about this and I know that this is right, this is the best thing ~ even if you don't know it yet. Even if you never fully know it._

"Kurt," Blaine muttered, breaking the kiss. "Kurt, Kurt, Kurt... We need to stop."

Kurt froze above him and Blaine could feel it down the length of his body.

"We can't do this," Blaine said.

"Blaine..."

"We have... we... we can't do this."

"I'm sorry," Kurt stammered, pushing up.

Before Kurt could disappear off into his self-consciousness Blaine reached out, grabbing his hand. "No," he said, "we need to talk about this."

"No, we don't."

"Kurt."

"It was a mistake. A moment. Nothing more."

"I'm not just talking about tonight."

"I know. But—"

"But nothing."

"But _everything_ , Kurt."

"Why can't we just leave things? There's no point in dragging up the past—"

"It might be the past for you because you were the one who wrote the letter. You were the one with reasons and I was the one left with questions and trying to figure out why I got dumped without a single warning or fight or hint that it was even on the agenda."

"It was seven years ago—"

"And it's been every day since. Please, Kurt."

"I don't know what you want from me, Blaine."

"The truth."

"You got it. You got every word of it in that letter. I would never lie to you, not about something like that. Not about something that important."

"We were important."

"Blaine—"

"Can you, just for once, talk to me?"

"I _always_ talked to you."

"Except about the fact that you were planning to break up with me."

"How about you not talking to me about your college applications?"

"What?"

"It was supposed to be New York. You were supposed to join me—"

"I was. I got into NYU and withdrew... after."

"So what was with the other applications?"

"Dad!" Blaine snapped. "He kept going on and on about only applying to a handful of places. So to shut him up I applied for other music and drama courses at other colleges. But it was only ever New York."

"Why didn't you say?"

"Because I didn't know you knew about the applications until I got your letter."

"Tina," Kurt said quietly by way of explanation. "She... I thought—"

"No, you assumed. You didn't think, you didn't ask, you just... assumed that I would throw away everything we planned for. So you what? Got in there first?"

"No, Blaine, it wasn't just... You know what I wrote. It was all there."

"Different paths, moving apart. _Alistair_ ," he added, almost spitting the name out. "How long did it last?"

"It never started," Kurt said.

"You dumped me for someone you never actually got together with?" Blaine almost yelled. "Well that makes me feel _so_ much better."

"Blaine—"

"I only ever wanted you to be happy," Blaine said quietly. "So I just told myself that if nothing else it was right for you, it was what you wanted."

"I'm... sorry."

"Why didn't you... with him?"

"Because of you," Kurt said. "What? You wanted honesty, here it is. You were, I _thought_ you were applying elsewhere. There was... someone else. Not like that but for the first time since I met you I actually noticed someone. Like that. And I wanted to be honest with you because if that was how things were then maybe..."

"And instead of talking to me about it you just wrote me a letter and changed your cell number and that was that. You know I left for LA as soon as high school was done? Skipped prom, almost didn't go to graduation but Coop threatened to drag me there if I even thought about not going. The deal was that we left as soon as it was done because I didn't want to be there when you came home that summer."

"I... didn't know."

"Now you do," Blaine snapped then winced a little at how harsh his words sounded. "I'd been looking forward to that summer since you left in the Fall and suddenly every plan and dream and idea I'd ever had was gone. You were gone and I couldn't..." He gave a short, soft laugh. "For the record, you are very hard to get over, Kurt Hummel."

"So are you," Kurt whispered. "And I wanted to try and stop you getting hurt..."

"So you broke my heart?"

"No, it's just... We were kids, Blaine. Nineteen years old and..."

"And what?" Blaine asked when Kurt tailed off.

"And so in love that it scared me. So in love that it would have been New York and apartments and engagement and wedding and kids and a dog. It would have been everything and we were _nineteen_."

"It didn't have to happen right away you know," Blaine snapped. "I'd have been happy to wait a few years."

"I didn't mean that," Kurt replied sharply. "To know that was coming, to know how your future was going to play out? Were you OK with that?"

"Yes," Blaine said quietly. "I always was. You were... are..." He sighed. "I called you the love of my life once. I meant it. I knew you were it for me and..."

"And you weren't scared?"

"Yes, but that's not the same as being afraid."

"Well I was," Kurt said, looking down. "I thought I wasn't but I was."

"But... why?"

"Look, you wanted to know. Now you know. Can we just leave it? I thought we were going to celebrate."

"I don't think I should." Blaine's voice was low and defeated. "Champagne and painkillers don't really mix."

It took some effort for him to get up onto his one good foot and grab the crutches. As dramatic exits went it was the least effective but Kurt let him go regardless. After all, when you'd just lied to the love of your life it hardly seemed right to stop him.

 

~~

 

Kurt could hear Blaine moving about for an hour or so (his cast and crutches hardly made him the quietest houseguest) before the condo fell quiet. Moving as far away from Blaine's room as he could Kurt pulled out his cell and hit the well-used speed dial.

"It's late," Rachel said immediately. "Why are you still up?"

"Can't sleep."

"Two things keep you awake, Kurt Hummel," Rachel said quietly, "work and love. I know that your work is going well so..."

"I screwed up."

"Hang on," she sighed and he could hear the soft rustle of the covers. "Sorry," Rachel said to someone – Finn – and Kurt listened to her move out of the bedroom and close the door. "How have you screwed up? Other than breaking his ankle and..."

"Potentially ruining his career, dragging up all the hurt from the break up and then rejecting him when we kissed tonight because I have a boyfriend that—"

"You don't really love," Rachel picked up, "and you never have because since you stupidly broke up with Blaine you have been searching for something that you had in the first place and..."

"And I have known all of this for seven years because I wrote a play about it? I know, Rach."

"So. You kissed?"

"Yeah, we signed the LA deal tonight. We were celebrating and—"

"And you _celebrated_?" Rachel teased.

"We kissed. Just kissed. And..."

"And you stopped because of Stephen?"

"No. He stopped because of Stephen."

"Wait, _you_ didn't?"

"What is wrong with me, Rach?" Kurt sighed. "I was scared of cheating on Blaine, of being tempted, of what that meant, that I broke up with him and here I am—"

"You were never scared of cheating on Blaine," Rachel said. "You just told yourself that to make it easier. You wrote that letter because you freaked out over the fact that you'd met the love of your life in high school. You had a boyfriend who was prepared to follow you to New York and you had a minor breakdown over the fact that he was prepared to do that."

"Why would I notice Alistair if...?"

"Because you're not blind, Kurt. I love Finn, you know I do. But did that stop me checking out the cute waiter who served us the other night? Of course not. It's window shopping, Kurt. Just window shopping."

"That's the most twisted logic I've ever heard."

"Just because you're with someone, just because you love them, it doesn't mean that you stop noticing other people. It's natural, Kurt. We notice people before we fall in love, we notice them after. The only difference is that we don't do anything about it because we are in love."

"OK, first, I hardly 'noticed' anyone when I was growing up. It was only really Blaine. Just him. And how—?"

"Because sometimes it happens, Kurt. And you know that. So why are we talking about this, again, at some ungodly hour of the morning when we're on different sides of the country and we can't share some vegan ice cream?"

"Because I'm scared."

"Of what? Of getting back together with him?"

Kurt was silent for a minute while he gathered the courage to finally say it. "Of letting him go again."

"Oh Kurt..."

"You know I still love him."

"So why don't you do something about it?"

"Stephen—"

"Kurt," Rachel said sharply.

"I can't just dump him."

"Why not? You 'just dumped' Blaine and you don't love Stephen."

"I do."

"Not the way you love Blaine," Rachel amended. "Not the way you love someone you're going to spend the rest of your life with. Not the way that you should love the person you're with."

"He's seeing someone too."

"So he's got a Stephen of his own."

"You don't know that. I don't know that."

"I know it, same as you do, Kurt. You're the love of his life."

"I was his first love, Rach. He was mine. That's... important. Lasting."

"What are you scared of? Really? Beyond letting him go."

"What if I screw it up again?" Kurt asked quietly. "I hurt him, Rach. I ruined his life, threw out every plan we ever made, every dream for our future. I cut him out of my life and he had to run away to deal with it. I made him _run_ , Rachel."

"No one made him run, Kurt. He chose to do that. He wanted to leave."

"He needed to leave. He was there for me, they were my friends first and he felt like he couldn't be there especially seeing as I was coming home for the summer. He couldn't be there if I was.

"After he transferred he told me, once, that because of me he didn't feel like he had to run anymore. He finally found like he could stand up, face things because... Because he had me. You don't get how big that was for him and then I went and took that away from him and are you laughing at me?"

Rachel managed to compose herself after a few aborted attempts. "I'm sorry, but you are giving yourself way too much credit. Blaine didn't _have_ to run, he wanted to. He wanted to go because he needed time and space to figure out what his next step was going to be. He left Lima that summer because he thought you wanted time and space from him and he didn't want to be in _your_ face. He was hurting and he was still thinking about you.

"He didn't run away from Dalton, he faced up to things and he did the hard thing because it was the best thing for you. Both of you. So don't you dare tell me that Blaine doesn't love you. I'm not there and even I know that."

"So what do I do?"

"What you've wanted to do since you were sixteen. What you did for over two years actively and passively ever since. Love him."

"You make it sound easy."

"It's the hardest thing in the world," Rachel said. "But you know that already." She sighed gently. "You have my blessing, my support and my love. Finn's too."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh. "That's not why I called you and you can't just give me Finn's."

"Yes it is and yes I can. Now let me get back to my husband and you can go back to yours."

"Rachel!"

"Oh shut up. You two were pretty much married during our senior year."

"Then I think we got a divorce."

"Compared to me and Finn?" Rachel yawned. "You two were it. You still could be."

"You think?"

"I know. So do you. You have known since you were sixteen that Blaine is The One. The love of your life, person you're going to grow old with. The second you stop fighting that you might start to like your life again."

"I like it just fine," Kurt replied in shock. "My shows, my writing, the successes..."

"Kurt."

"...Go back to bed, Rachel. I promise to call you at a more decent hour next time."

"Call me when you want. Especially when you and Blaine get back together."

"Rach!"

"I'll give Finn a kiss from you."

"You do that. And give one to Blaine from me," she laughed. "Love you."

"Love you too," Rachel said before hanging up.

 

~~

 

Over the next 48 hours Kurt went over and over the different scenarios in his head. He could break up with Stephen. Over the phone? Quick, but hardly fair. Face to face would mean going back to New York and leaving Blaine who would most likely be gone when he returned.

And going home to break up with Stephen would be so unfair given he'd not been able to make it back for Sophie. When Stephen had said that his sister had been taken into hospital with ovarian cysts Kurt had felt like he should be on a plane, going to be by his boyfriend's side (even if Sophie wasn't his biggest fan) but instead he'd made up an excuse about work he couldn't get out of.

It was just that he didn't want to get out of it. Sophie had Stephen and Blaine had no one but him. He needed to be here for Blaine and so he didn't go. More than that, he'd found he _wanted_ to be in LA. Wanted to be here with Blaine.

He could talk to Blaine, be honest with him and ask him to wait until he came back from New   
York. Although back for how long? Everything was in New York, this was only supposed to be a visit to bring the play over. His life was in New York, he had commitments in New York. Would Blaine move? Could he move? He wasn't attached to any show at the moment (thanks to the accident, his brain not-so-helpfully supplied) and he could easily get work in New York. Theatre or TV or film. Whatever he wanted.

If he wanted.

Rupert had made him sign his life away on no fewer than twenty documents before he'd boarded a plane home. Kurt couldn't quite remember if that was New-York-home or England-home as his mind was too full of Blaine to process anything else.

They hadn't talked about The Kiss, just carried on as if nothing had happened. Just this morning Kurt had taken Blaine to his PT appointment and been dismissed at the door. Blaine was getting stronger and more mobile with each session and Kurt knew it was just a matter of time before the cast came off and then... what? He'd be gone? Move back to the apartment he'd been sharing with Cooper? Be out of his life again?

Kurt wasn't sure that he wanted that.

Not that he was sure what he wanted.

When his phone rang he grabbed at it, answering without looking. "You finished?"

"What?" Stephen asked.

"Sorry, thought you were... Doesn't matter. Hi."

"Hi yourself," Stephen replied. "Been busy?"

"Kinda," Kurt said, wincing a little at the lie. Not that it was a strict one. Yes, he'd been busy. But not so busy that he couldn't have picked up the phone. "Sorry I've not called."

"Hands full?"

Kurt sighed. "You mean Blaine."

"He still living with you?"

"Don't do that," Kurt said. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't make out this is... more than it is."

"I wasn't aware that's what I was doing," Stephen replied coolly.

"Blaine isn't _living_ with me. He's staying with me. And only until his cast is off. Which will be soon and I'm coming back so we can put all of this behind us and move on."

"Move on?" Stephen asked. "Move on from what?"

"Oh, you know what I mean," Kurt sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I mean I'll be home and we won't be trying to have a relationship coast to coast and across time zones."

"Is that what we are? _Trying_ to have a relationship?"

"Stephen, please. Stop twisting everything. Can we just... not?"

"No, Kurt," Stephen said. "I think we should. I think we need to."

"Fine. Ask me. Say whatever it is you think you need to say and we can talk about this."

"Are you sleeping with Blaine?" Stephen asked bluntly.

"No," Kurt said firmly. "I am not cheating on you, Stephen, I wouldn't do that to you. Hell, I _broke up with Blaine_ because I didn't want to cheat on him. Because I wasn't going to be that guy."

"Kurt—"

"So your next question. Am I in love with him?"

"Kurt—"

"Blaine was my first, Stephen. My first in everything that matters and counts. My first boyfriend, my first love... my _first_. And I will always love him in that respect. He is always going to mean something to me which is why I couldn't just leave him. Anyone but him. I know you think that I shouldn't... that because I ended things with him... But—"

"I'm sorry," Stephen said quickly. "I just... It's him, you know? It's _your Blaine_. Your first love, your great love, high school sweetheart and the guy that once upon a time you said you were going to marry."

"That was a long time ago. Things change. I'm with you now."

"And if you weren't?" Stephen asked quietly.

"What?"

"What if you weren't with me? What if you were single?"

"Then things would be different." Kurt exhaled loudly and slowly as he mentally worked through his calendar. "Will you do something for me?"

"Anything," Stephen said, quickly and almost gratefully?

"Book a table for us at that little bistro we love. Tomorrow night."

"What? Kurt—"

"I've got a breakfast meeting at the theatre but I can be on a plane by lunch. I need to be back by the following afternoon for..." _Blaine's PT_ "...something, but I have one night. We can have this one night."

"Aren't you due home soon?"

"So? I haven't seen my boyfriend in weeks and I miss him. I need to see you, Stephen."

"I think I need to see you too," Stephen replied and Kurt could hear the smile in his voice.

"I'll get the tickets sorted and text you the details. You book the table, yeah?"

"Kurt?"

"What?"

"Any objections to staying in?"

Kurt gave a small laugh. "None at all."

"I love you," Stephen said.

"I love you too," Kurt replied and hoped that he sounded like he meant it. "I'll be home soon."

"Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. I mean it. I think we... I think we need this. I didn't want to put pressure on you, I know how important the play is to you..."

There was something in the way that Stephen tailed off which set Kurt's nerves off. "What is it?" he asked.

"Has Blaine seen it?"

"What?"

"The play."

"Not unless he's been to New York recently."

"Has he read it then? Does he know what it's about?"

"Does it matter?" Kurt asked.

"It does now." Stephen's voice was clipped, all previous hint of warmth was gone.

"Why?"

"Kurt, you wrote it about _him_."

"I wrote it about _me_ ," Kurt replied. "I wrote it about my life, about getting out of Ohio..."

"About leaving Blaine behind."

"About leaving _everyone_ behind."

"Yeah, but at the end—"

"Stephen," Kurt cut in. "Please. Can we just... wait? I'll be home tomorrow and we can stay in and we can talk and we can do all of this face to face and not on the phone and..." He stopped as his phone beeped in his ear. Looking at the screen he saw he had a new text. "Please? Can we do this tomorrow?"

"I love you, Kurt."

"I love you too."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll text you."

The call ended allowing Kurt to read the message.

 

**Blaine Anderson  
 _4.03pm_  
God, I'm exhausted. Just want to go home and sleep. Make it happen.**

**Kurt Hummel  
 _4.03pm_  
I'm sure there was a polite request for a pick up in there somewhere.**

**Blaine Anderson  
 _4.04pm_  
In which case you're mixing my texts up with someone else's. Come get me else I'm tweeting some nasty rumors.**

**Kurt Hummel  
 _4.04pm_  
You wouldn't dare.**

**Blaine Anderson  
 _4.04pm_  
Don't test me. Be here in five.**

**Kurt Hummel  
 _4.05pm_  
I'm across town. Fifteen.**

**Blaine Anderson  
 _4.07pm_  
You'd better be bringing me coffee then.**

**Kurt Hummel  
 _4.08pm_  
Thought you wanted to sleep. Coffee will just keep you up.**

**Kurt Hummel  
 _4.08pm_  
AWAKE. I clearly meant that coffee will keep you AWAKE. And on that note I'm leaving now. I don't text and drive.**

**Blaine Anderson  
 _4.10pm_  
Sure Q would be happy to hear that. See you soon. **

 

~~

 

Blaine was waiting for him and Kurt pulled up, jumping out of the car to move round to the passenger side. He supported Blaine as he hopped his way into the car, taking the crutches from him and putting them on the back seat. Then he got back into the car and pulled away into the stream of traffic.

"Tell me," Blaine said after watching Kurt for a moment.

"What?"

"Tell me."

"I'm going to New York. Tomorrow lunchtime if I can get a flight."

"I didn't think you were finished here...?"

"I'm not," Kurt said. "But Stephen..."

"Right. I see."

"It's just one night. You'll be OK?"

"I don't need a sitter if that's what you're getting at."

"No, I know, it's just—"

"I'm fine," Blaine said. "I can get about under my own steam, it's one night—"

"What if something happens? You're hardly the most mobile of people. If you fall or—"

"Then I promise to keep my cell in my pants and if I fall I will call 911. I will order takeout so I don't have to cook and if you're willing to help me with the pre- and post-shower rituals tonight then I'm sure I can fester for one night."

"I'm overreacting, aren't I?" Kurt laughed softly.

"Just a bit," Blaine smiled. "But that's who you are. You can't help but can't take care of people. Your dad, me..."

"There's a difference between caring and smothering though. You're old enough and ugly enough to look after yourself for one night."

"Charming."

"You OK? With me going I mean?"

"I'm not your keeper, Kurt. And I'm sure Stephen is missing you."

"What about Charlie? He missing you?"

"Sure he is. In his own way."

"What?"

"We're not exactly... He's a friend."

"With benefits?"

"You make it sound... cheap. It's new. We're just figuring us out."

"Not like you," Kurt said. "You always... dived straight in. Both feet. You wanted something and you went for it."

"If you're about to mention... That Place, then we are no longer friends."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Kurt smiled before humming a few bars under his breath. When Blaine finally recognised the song he laughed and reached over, hitting Kurt lightly on the arm. "But seriously. Why the hesitation? It's not like you at all."

"I guess it's true what they say then," Blaine shrugged. "Once bitten..."

"I don't believe that any more than you do," Kurt said. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Blaine said. "Things are... different."

There was a moment's silence before Kurt said, "I'm... sorry."

"What for?"

"Just... everything. I'm sorry."

"It's OK," Blaine said, his voice as warm and affectionate as it had been when they were seventeen years old and wrapped around each other in bed that first night. "Really, Kurt. It's fine. There is nothing to apologise for, not any more. We're OK."

"Really?"

"Really," Blaine smiled. "Thank you."

"For what? Breaking your heart, and your ankle?"

"Well, the heart thing... I'd not be here if it weren't for what happened. And as for the ankle it meant you and I got to reconnect. I... I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Why did we stop talking again?" Blaine asked.

"Dunno," Kurt shrugged. "Weirdness?"

"Me or you?" Blaine quipped.

"You left Lima after graduation."

"They were your friends..."

"They were yours too. I hated the idea that you felt like you couldn't be around them because of what I did," Kurt said.

"I stay in touch with a few of them," Blaine said. "Tina, and Mike of course. Quinn and I do Christmas letters each year."

"Letters?"

"Yeah, the old fashioned variety. There's something about putting pen to paper and creating something."

"I know," Kurt said. "I hand wrote _Moments Passed_."

"What? You _hand wrote_ a Broadway musical?"

"Yeah. Coffee shops, parks, moments between lectures and workshops and every other moment I could get. Once I got the idea it wouldn't go away. Now I know why writers say it's addictive. I'd be walking down the street, in the shower, and there would be lines and songs and just..."

"You're a writer," Blaine said as if it were a moment of revelation.

"Did you miss the whole 'hit play' thing?" Kurt laughed.

"No, I mean... You were all about getting to Broadway and getting into NYADA and you loved performing. And so you thought that's what you wanted to do. But this? This is what you were _meant_ to do."

"And what about you? Acting never seemed to feature much on your radar in high school. Is that what you want to do?"

"I do OK at it, and here that's not a bad thing."

"But is it what you want to do?" Kurt repeated, glancing over at his passenger. "Thought not. Know you too well, Blaine Anderson."

"OK then, Mr Know-It-All. What am I destined to do?"

"Perform," Kurt replied. "On stage. You can act, I know. The whole of McKinley knew because you made them all believe you fell in love with Rachel so—"

"First it's comments about That Place, now it's comments about That Kiss. This is like our Embarrassing History 101 class."

"Next session is about the time when Dad came home early and you—"

"Enough!" Blaine laughed, his cheeks flushing at the memory and embarrassment for his eighteen year-old self. "What is it going to take for you to stop?"

"The truth. What do you think you are meant to be doing?"

"Stage work," Blaine said without hesitation. "Don't think I'm quite Broadway bound, not yet. But theatre for certain. Musical theatre."

"So why are you auditioning for bit parts in TV shows?"

"Because theatre parts aren't just handed out. And I need to make a living."

"In LA?"

"What's wrong with LA?"

"There are plenty of places with a good theatre community you could be in. Places where you'd be seen and recognised, places you could—"

"Sometimes that's not an option," Blaine said sharply. "Coop... We needed each other."

"What? Why?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Blaine, it matters. What the hell do you mean you _needed_ each other? What happened?"

"Kurt..."

"I will pull over right now if I have to and make you tell me."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"I have my ways. Don't make me use them."

"Kurt, please. I'm asking you—"

"And now I _need_ to know. Blaine, please. Don't act like you need to shut yourself away from me."

"You're not my boyfriend anymore, Kurt. You don't have rights to everything about my private life."

"I'm not saying I have rights and I'm not saying that you need to tell me. I'm just saying that you shouldn't feel like you have to keep things from me."

Blaine seemed to be thinking it over and so the last few streets were driven in silence. It was only when Kurt pulled up in front of the condo that Blaine did anything. He unclipped his seatbelt and turned slightly in the seat so he could look at Kurt.

"Mom died," was all he said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Shock**

It wasn't until after dinner that Blaine sighed and gave in to Kurt's silent request. Since the car he'd not said anything, first out of shock and then out of respect. Kurt had waited, let Blaine take his time, gather himself.

"It was a car crash," Blaine said as Kurt cleared away the plates. "I'd just graduated college and—"

"That was only a few years ago!" Kurt interrupted. "Sorry, I... I'm sorry."

"Coop and I got on a plane, we were there at the end. She never woke up but at least we got to say goodbye. Dad couldn't cope, as you'd expect, and he would just spend days sitting in a chair, staring into space. Coop had to do everything, arrange the funeral, and he never got a chance to properly grieve.

"At the wake everyone was coming up to Dad, saying how he'd done Mom proud with the service and I could see that Coop was... I got him out of there, stopped him making a scene and got him to calm down. He was breaking down and I couldn't leave him, I couldn't let him come back here by himself. It was only supposed to be for a few months but we... we bonded. Properly bonded for the first time since we were little kids.

"Since then it's been the two of us. You know Dad and I... We're perfectly civil, even manage to survive Christmases and Thanksgivings, but I think I have more meaningful contact with Quinn each year."

Blaine caught Kurt's look as he returned to the table and smiled wryly. "She found out, about Mom. Her mom used to go to the same country club or something, I forget. Anyway, Quinn came to the funeral, not sure I'd have made it through it without her."

"Quinn's known, all this time? She never said anything!" Kurt snapped.

"I asked her not to. I... I didn't want you to know."

"Why not?"

"You really need to ask? We weren't talking, Kurt. We weren't friends. I wasn't going to make the first bit of contact we'd had in four years a 'hey, my Mom died, I need you' call."

" _I need you_?" Kurt repeated.

"What?"

"You said... _I need you_. You needed me?"

"Who else would understand what it meant? What I was going through? And I still... Well. Coop talked me out of it. Said that after four years things would be different now, that you would have moved on, and all I could think of was you and _Alistair_ and... So I didn't call. Obviously. And Coop and I grew closer. We were like brothers again, actual brothers."

"I wish I'd known," Kurt said, reaching across and taking Blaine's hand in his. "I'm so, so sorry, Blaine. Your mom... She was a wonderful person."

"I know," he smiled sadly and Kurt could see the tears brimming in his eyes.

 _How long has it been since he has talked about her?_ "Next time I'm in Ohio I'll..." Kurt started. "If that's OK?"

Blaine sniffed and blinked hard, sending the first tear down his cheek. "Of course it's OK."

"Hey, hey," Kurt said softly, getting up and moving around the table. He slid into the seat next to Blaine and reached out immediately, pulling him into a hug. "I wish you'd told me. I wish someone had. It wouldn't have mattered, I'd have been there."

"Really?" Blaine asked into Kurt's shoulder.

"Of course," Kurt said, his hand rubbing soothing patterns across Blaine's back. "I get why you didn't, but please... Don't you ever think that I won't be there for you, Blaine. No matter what happens or where we are..." He pulled back to look at him. "I will be here for you. I promise."

"...Why?" Blaine asked eventually.

He got his answer in a kiss.

Of all the mistakes Kurt could make this ranked up there. His ex-boyfriend had just poured his heart out over his mother's death and so what does he do? Kiss him. For a second time.

He should stop this. He should pull back and apologise and he should...

Blaine kissed him back. Hard.

Reasoned thought disappeared and Kurt's hand flew to Blaine's head, threading his fingers through the soft curls and pulling him closer. The kiss deepened naturally and ended naturally.

"Blaine..."

"If you're about to apologise for that then I will hit you with my crutch," Blaine laughed.

"I shouldn't have done that."

"We shouldn't have done that you mean," Blaine said. "If you're playing the 'significant other' card."

"I didn't think Charlie was a significant other," Kurt asked.

"No, but I am aware of yours. Which makes me as bad as..."

"Don't," Kurt sighed, sitting back on the chair. "I shouldn't have done that. You were..."

"Not pushing you away, notice that?" Blaine asked. "Sometimes a kiss is... just a kiss."

"What if it's not?"

"What?"

"Nothing," Kurt dismissed. "Ignore me."

"Hey, this whole talking thing works both ways."

"Can we... take a rain check? Until I get back?"

For a moment Blaine was confused until he remembered. "New York?"

"Yeah. When I get back... things are... probably going to be different."

"Good different?"

"I hope so," Kurt said, his mouth curling up into an involuntary smile. "I've been... trying to work out what..." He stopped and gave a small, soft laugh. "Sorry, I'm not making much sense, am I?"

"You forget," Blaine said, his voice low and soft, "that I know you. I got very good at working out what you meant."

"Really?" Kurt asked, lifting his eyes to meet Blaine's.

For a long moment they held the other's gaze, Kurt almost willing Blaine to work it out.

"You've made your mind up," Blaine said eventually.

"Yeah," Kurt breathed. "I think I have."

"You excited?"

"Nervous," Kurt laughed. "But the good kind of nerves, if that makes any sense?"

"Yeah," Blaine smiled. "See? Told you that I knew you."

"Do you... Am I doing the right thing?"

"Going to New York?" Blaine asked. "It's not my place..."

"Please, Blaine. I want to know. Your opinion... matters. It always mattered to me."

"I think... I think you need to do what's right for you, for your relationship. For your life. That's why we split up, isn't it?"

"Blaine..."

"It's OK," Blaine said gently, lifting a hand to Kurt's cheek. "I don't... hate you. Not anymore."

"I really am sorry. For... how I did it. I should have talked to you, talked it through. You deserved that."

"Maybe," Blaine shrugged, dropping his hand. "But it's done now. It's in the past and all we can do now is move on."

"To bigger and better things?"

"To things that are meant to be," Blaine smiled. "Hope the trip is everything you want it to be."

 

~~

 

It wouldn't be until he was on the plane to New York the next day that Kurt would finally figure out what was wrong with Blaine's smile.

It hadn't been genuine.

 

~~

 

As soon as he was into the arrivals hall at JFK he spotted Stephen in the crowd. He couldn't help but return the smile – and the hug – and allowed his hand to be grabbed, pulled through the crowd to the taxi waiting area.

"Stephen!" Kurt protested with a soft laugh.

"Hang the expense," he replied, passing Kurt's bag to the driver and all but shoving him into the back seat. "I've missed you and I'm not sharing you with the rest of New York City on the shuttle bus."

"But traffic..." Kurt said, stopping when he saw the look on Stephen's face. "What?"

"Just shut up and enjoy the surprise," Stephen said. "I've missed you."

"Missed you too," Kurt found himself replying, just as he found himself returning the kiss.

The ride was short and uneventful, full of gentle touches and small kisses and Kurt was happy to let Stephen lead. He tried to push thoughts and concerns about Blaine from his mind (what if he falls? what if he's stubborn and tries to cook? has he got enough pain medication for the next few days? is he going to be lonely?) and let Stephen have this time, have him.

When they pulled up outside the hotel he couldn't stop the noise that left his mouth. "Stephen, no, we can't—"

"Yes, we can," Stephen said, his voice soft in Kurt's ear. "This is to celebrate. You. You've done so well with the play here and then taking it to Los Angeles and now... We can do this and we should do this."

"I..." Kurt said, his mind racing along with his heart. He turned to face his boyfriend and he smiled. "Thank you."

"Any time," Stephen grinned, kissing him gently then grabbing his hand. "Come on. Let's check in. You're going to _love_ the room."

 

~~

 

He did. It was tasteful in its luxury; a queen sized bed with a soft mattress and thick covers, an en-suite which held a double tub and an open shower behind a glass pane. A small kitchen unit held a full sized fridge unit (and two bottles of champagne Kurt would later discover) as well as the usual miniature kettle with the little packets of tea and coffee.

"We're hardly rich yet," Kurt teased as he looked out of the window at the city lights glowing in the dark.

"We are," Stephen said. "In ways that matter."

"Oh?" Kurt asked as he felt two hands on his waist. He turned in Stephen's arms and raised his arms to drape over his shoulders. "And what might that be?" he smiled up coyly.

"Love," Stephen said. He dipped his head to kiss the tip of Kurt's nose. "Makes us the richest people on the planet."

"Since when did you get soppy?" Kurt laughed. "The man I met never used to go for that stuff."

"I never did until you," Stephen said. "You're the first person I ever, truly loved. The first person who made all that song nonsense make sense. And I know I'm not that for you..."

"Please don't," Kurt sighed.

"No, I'm not. I'm not bringing this up for a fight. I just... I wanted you to know that you're that for me. And I hope that you—"

"I do love you, Stephen," Kurt said. He pushed up and pressed his mouth to Stephen's, forcing his mouth open. He pulled their bodies flush against each other and held on tight. "I love you, I love you, I love you," Kurt repeated over and over as Stephen's hands moved over and under his clothes.

If you'd asked him later who he was saying 'I love you' to he'd have struggled to answer.

 

~~

 

"I could get used to this," Kurt sighed as he lay back in the bath, letting the warm water rush over every part of his body. "I need to get one of these tubs."

"We'd never fit it in our apartment," Stephen laughed as he walked into the bathroom, carrying two glasses of champagne.

"I suppose it would lose some of its appeal if I could have a bath like this every day."

"So maybe it's this we should do more often."

"Hmmm?" Kurt asked, letting his eyes drift shut.

"This. Indulgence."

"Not exactly my style."

"Why not?" Stephen asked, setting the glasses down on the side. "Kurt?"

"What?" he asked sleepily, opening his eyes to look up at him.

"Why isn't this your style?"

"I don't—"

"Do you hate this?" Stephen asked, kneeling beside the bathtub and resting his chin on the edge. "I just wanted to do something special."

"I don't hate it," Kurt said reassuringly, lifting a wet and bubble covered hand to Stephen's face. "Really. This _is_ special."

"Good," Stephen grinned.

"What?" Kurt asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"You'll see," Stephen smiled, leaning in for a quick kiss. "Take your time. Enjoy this because we can't get a double bath into our apartment and it may be a while before we're in a suite like this again."

Kurt smiled and let his eyes drift shut. It lasted a minute before he opened them again, looking at the now-closed door leading back to the main suite. The suspicion was heavy in his stomach and he hoped he was wrong.

He wasn't.

When he emerged from the bathroom, swathed in an oversized fluffy robe, Stephen was waiting for him with a spread of food and a look of nervous hope and expectation.

"Stephen..."

"Come, sit down," he said.

"I can't," Kurt replied. "Please don't do this."

"What?"

"Don't do this. Not now. Please."

"You don't—"

"I do," he said softly. "I know you."

"Yeah," Stephen said, taking the box from his pocket and setting it on the table. "And I know you."

"I'm... going to get dressed. Then I think we should talk."

"Yeah," Stephen said. "I think we should."

 

~~

 

They sat on the bed and ate while they talked. The first thing they did was promise to be honest with the other, no matter what the consequences, outcome or cost.

"Are you in love with Blaine?" was Stephen's first question.

"I have been since I was sixteen," was Kurt's first reply. "But you knew that already."

"You broke up with him."

"And you know why I did that. It wasn't because I didn't love him."

"Did you ever love me?"

"Of course," Kurt said, his hand clasping over Stephen's. "I still do. It's just..."

"Not enough?"

"I wish it was."

"Really?"

"Of course. I wasn't settling and you weren't second choice. It's just... when I saw him... spending time with him..."

"Right," Stephen said, pulling his hand free. "Have you slept with him?"

"No," Kurt said firmly. "But... we kissed. Twice. The first time we were drinking and... No, that's not fair. It wasn't the drink. But we were caught up in the excitement of me signing the contract and he stopped us and—"

"Blaine stopped?" Stephen asked. "Not you?"

"I wasn't thinking straight. My mind was still racing from that afternoon and I just got caught up in everything."

"What about the second time?"

"That was last night," Kurt said. "And... neither of us stopped it. We were talking about Blaine's mom and it happened and that's when I knew."

"That you were going to come here to break up with me?"

"That I was coming here to talk to you, to explain face to face, because you deserve better. And because I do love you."

"I wish that meant something now."

"Stephen—"

"You can't tell me that you love me in one breath and then tell me that's we're done because you're still in love with your ex with the next. _Still_ , Kurt. You're _still_ in love with him. You never stopped and I'm sorry, that does make me second choice, second best."

"I never wanted you to be."

"But I am," Stephen said quietly. "And I think I knew that."

"I'm sorry."

"At first it didn't matter because he was just a ghost from your past. Then someone sends me a link to the YouTube video of the accident and then he's there, with you, in LA."

"I never meant to hurt you, I never wanted to be this guy. And I asked you for this trip, this night, before Blaine and I... I didn't start off planning to come here and break up with you."

"So what made up your mind?"

"Stephen—"

"I have a right to know."

"Blaine's mom."

"Why? What did she say?"

"Nothing. She died a few years ago in an accident. Blaine was talking about it last night and I asked him why he didn't call me. He said he didn't want me to feel obligated to be there and I realised that I wouldn't have felt obligated. I would have been there because I wanted – no, needed to be there for him. And with you—"

"When Sophie was taken ill your instinct wasn't to jump on the first plane home," Stephen said quietly.

"I'm—"

"Please don't apologise again," he said quietly. "I think we've established that you're sorry. Now what we need to do is work out what happens next."

"I'll... I'll move out. Stay with Rachel and Finn until I can get sorted. I'll keep paying my share of the rent of course."

"I don't need your charity."

"It's not charity, Stephen, it's the right thing to do. I'm ending this, I'm leaving you, I'm not going to bankrupt you into the bargain. Will you... just not be stubborn? This once?"

Stephen smiled and shook his head a little. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"What do you want to do about the stuff we bought?"

"Oh, I... I don't know. Do you... do you want anything?"

"Mom's dresser."

"Oh, of course. I mean, if you want me to hang onto it until you get a new place, but yeah. That's yours. Always. I'd never..."

"Keep the rest," Kurt shrugged. "It was bought for that apartment, it all goes together."

"Says you," Stephen said. "They look random to me."

"You never let me explain it, that's why."

"It was always your thing."

"You sure you want to keep any of it then?" Kurt laughed.

"It doesn't seem right, you paid for half of it. And don't you dare say compensation or dues or recompense. I wouldn't give up a single day of... us, not for anything."

"Really?"

"I love you, Kurt. You think this changes everything?"

"But... why? Why aren't you... angry? Yelling at me?"

"Is it going to change anything?" Stephen asked. When Kurt said nothing he shrugged. "So what's the point? This is what you want, what's right for you. And I'm trying really hard to remember that because I love you I just want what's best for you."

"Do you want me to go? I can—"

"No," Stephen said, reaching out quickly.

When Kurt looked up and met Stephen's eyes he could see them already brimming with tears. He looked so lost, scared, hurting, a million emotions swimming in eyes that had always been just the wrong shade of brown.

"If... I would have been so happy to spend the rest of my life with you," Kurt said. "I really would have."

"Does he...? I mean, is he...?"

"I don't know," Kurt admitted.

"So you're breaking up with me in what? Hope?" Stephen asked, his tone almost teasing.

"I'm... I don't know. I think he might still care..."

"No, you think he still loves you," Stephen said. "You wouldn't be doing this if you didn't. Not that you hope... You don't expect anything from him, but if you didn't think that there was a chance would you be doing this?"

"Yes," Kurt said quickly. "I'm sorry, I just... I'm just being honest. As soon as I knew I was still in love with him, still... his. I would have dropped everything for him had I known about his mom. I worked it out, I'd just started a new play. My big break, my opening week, and I'd have jumped on a plane to Ohio, no second thoughts, no questions, no hesitation. I'd have thrown everything away for him.

"He told me, once, when we were in high school that I was the love of his life. Yesterday I realised he's mine. Well, realised that I _knew_ he is mine. And I'm sorry that I can't be that for you."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because... you don't deserve to be hurt."

"But not like this. It shouldn't be like this."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"How did Blaine hurt you?"

"What? Stephen, I broke up with _him_ —"

"So how did he hurt you?"

"He..." Kurt started, but the words stuck in his throat. He coughed and swallowed past the lump in his throat. "He didn't fight," he said quietly. "I panicked and I was scared and I took the coward's way out and wrote him a letter and I dumped him and he didn't call me, he didn't fight and he just... let me walk away."

"But I'm doing that," Stephen pointed out. "I don't want to and I am fighting every urge to scream and shout and try and get you to stay."

"Why?"

"Because I love you," Stephen said quietly. "Because I am so in love with you that this? This is killing me. I'm sitting here, with you, and I can just reach out and... take your hand," he said, doing just that. "I can touch your face," he continued, acting it out. "I could kiss you and be with you tonight just like we have been so many times over the last few years. I could stay and fight, tell you that I know I will love you and be here for you and be true to you for the rest of my life. I will do everything in my power to make you happy. But I know I can't do that. I can't be who you want me to be because... Because I'm not him.

"So I do the only thing I can do, I start to protect myself. I start to put distance between us and that starts now while I can talk to you and try and give myself something good to end this on. Something that, when things get bad and I miss you and I want to pick up the phone and call you so badly that my chest hurts, I can look back and tell myself that I did the right thing here, now. Because you told me what you wanted, what you needed, what was best for you and that you are sorry, so sorry, but that doesn't include me and because I love you... I walk away."

"Blaine didn't fight—"

"Because he couldn't. Because looking back and thinking you made an idiot of yourself? Not the best way to help you deal with it."

"Still. I wish—"

"Me too," Stephen interrupted.

"I don't have to stay. We don't have to."

"Can we? I mean, unless you think it's too weird? Just... one last night?"

"I..." Kurt said, his eyes widening a little.

"No, I don't mean... that. Although I'd have no objections," he laughed. "But just... talk? Watch movies? Curl up together the way we did when we were friends? Before?"

"Yeah, that I can do."

"What?"

"The friends bit. If you want? I'll follow your lead on this."

"Maybe," Stephen said. "After time? I don't know."

"It's fine. No rush."

"Just don't go changing your cell number," Stephen said. "Who knows what might have happened if he'd been able to call you?"

"OK," Kurt laughed softly. "Deal."

"Just... one last thing?"

"Sure."

"I don't... You and Blaine... I don't want to know..."

"I won't, I promise. I don't even know what's going to happen. His life is in LA so... Right, stopping now," he said when he caught the look on Stephen's face.

"Just for that, I'm choosing the first movie."

"Only fair," Kurt laughed as Stephen reached for the remote.

 

====================================

 

**Jolt**

 

It was late when Kurt returned to the condo, dropping his bag in the hallway. "Blaine?" he called. "Have you eaten? I was thinking that we could get take out and... Blaine?"

It was soon evident that Blaine wasn't home and so Kurt reached for his cell to call or ext, see where he was. As far as Kurt knew Blaine didn't have a therapy session so...

His gaze fell on the table, suddenly seeing the envelope which had slid down from where it had evidently been propped up against the bowl.

Sometimes, Kurt thought, karma payback was a total bitch.

 

~~

 

"Should you be walking on that thing?"

"You mean my leg? Yeah. Been doing it for the best part of thirty years."

"You know what I mean, squirt."

"And you have been trying to call me that for the best part of thirty years and it hasn't worked. Don't start now, Coop."

"Hey, you text me to say you're jumping on a plane less than a day after your ankle is released from captivity, you've actively avoided talking about Kurt—"

"It's nothing," Blaine said, going back to staring out of the window.

"You just wanted to see me?"

"Can't I want to spend some time with my brother? I missed you."

"And I missed you too, kid," Cooper said, indicating as he pulled up outside his apartment block. "Almost as much as you're missing Kurt right now."

"Shut up," Blaine muttered, undoing the seatbelt and opening the car door.

"You know you're going to tell me," Cooper called after him. "Sooner or later!"

"Not going to happen!"

"Yeah it is."

 

~~

 

It did.

Later that night after several beers the pair of them were on the couch, Cooper was once again holding Blaine as he once again broke down over Kurt. Sobbed that he loved a boy who didn't want to love him back. Talked about another man having Kurt's heart – and in this case probably a ring and the wedding of the century. How excited he'd been about the trip to New York, how he'd been looking forward to it.

How he'd kissed Blaine and realised, without a doubt, where his heart lay and had run off to New York to get engaged.

"How do you know he's getting engaged?" Cooper asked.

"Finn," Blaine said, taking his last swig from the beer bottle. "He called for Kurt, just missed him. He wanted to warn Kurt, knowing how much he hates surprises, that Stephen had booked a hotel, that he'd asked Rachel's advice on rings..."

"Blaine," Cooper sighed, reaching out and patting his brother on the back.

"Thanks for the support," Blaine droned. "Want another beer?"

"No, and neither do you," he replied. "You are not a good drunk."

"I'm celebrating."

"What?"

"Finally moving on," Blaine declared. "I'm done with Kurt Hummel. I'm done pining over him or putting my life on hold. I'm... actually going to move on."

"B, you know I love you..."

"No, I mean it this time. This was exactly what I needed. Kurt is moving on with his life. He loves Stephen, they'll get married and adopt beautiful babies..."

"You don't know he said yes."

"You didn't see him, Coop. We... He... I thought it meant something but it wasn't the something I thought... I mean..."

"Take a deep breath and start again," Cooper said.

"We kissed. We kissed and it felt right and good and all the things that it felt like when were together. So I let myself think that everything, all those weeks, they meant something. Us being in LA together, the accident, everything. It was a way of bringing us back together. That we should never have split up in the first place.

"And I thought it meant something to him too but then he goes on about knowing what he wants and he goes back to New York. To _him_."

"Maybe he realised he wants you," Cooper suggested. "Maybe he went back to break up with this Stephen guy."

"A guy who was planning on proposing?"

"Why not?" Cooper offered.

"Those things don't tend to happen."

"It did."

"What?"

"It did. Before. To you. Kurt dumped you..."

"I wasn't going to propose," Blaine said. Then he looked away. "How did you...?"

"Because I know you, little brother. I knew you well enough then to know what you wanted, what you had planned. And when you came to me and the way you were? Only confirmed it."

"I don't think Kurt broke up with him. Not for me."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't love me."

"Yes he does," Cooper said. "I'd bet my job on it."

"What? Why?"

"Because you didn't see him in the hospital that day. At first I thought he was worried about being sued or maybe he was just scared of me."

At that Blaine couldn't help but give a snort of laughter.

"Hey! I can do the whole scary big brother routine when I want."

"What makes you think he—?"

"Because he didn't fight me. I told him simply that he was looking after you and all he said was 'OK'. He didn't ask why I wasn't doing it, he didn't launch into a speech about it being an accident. You were hurt, he was looking after you. And that was the end of the matter for him."

"But not for you," Blaine pointed out. "You pretty much terrified him."

"Because he was still the guy who hurt you. And he's still that guy now only I'm not so sure you've not done some of this yourself."

"Coop..."

"Did you even talk to him? Ask him how he felt?"

"I left a note..."

"Nice," Cooper smiled, appreciating the irony a little before remembering that he was supposed to be convincing Blaine to talk to Kurt this time. "But did you talk about that kiss?"

"...No..."

"Then how do you know how he felt?"

"Because if he felt something, if I meant anything to him, then why did he get on that plane?"

"To dump—"

"He broke up with me by letter, Coop. A letter, mailed home. I thought it was one of our little exchanges, I thought that he'd... He wrote me a letter but he'll get on a plane to break up with Stephen person? How does that work?"

" _I know that I'd never be able to do this in person_ ," Cooper quoted. " _I know that as soon as I saw you my resolve would waiver and I would be that boy on the staircase so utterly transfixed by the boy in front of me. I'll be that person standing in the wings of the stage watching you win over everyone in sight. I won't be able to_ —"

"I can't believe you remember it," Blaine said.

"What, and you don't?" Cooper replied. "You read it so often you could quote it, I just... picked it up. He couldn't face you, he loved you that much. But Stephen? That he can do. It's hard, breaking up with someone face to face. You get to see the moment they realise, the moment their heart breaks. You need to made of strong stuff to get through that."

"So Kurt—"

"He can deal with breaking Stephen's heart. But seeing you hurt? We know he doesn't do well with that."

"But he never said—"

"Neither did you."

Blaine said nothing, just thinking it over for a moment.

"When's he due back?"

"In LA? Tonight. Now, I think."

"You could call him, talk about it—"

"But what if he doesn't—?"

"Then you've lost nothing, you know for certain, and you can make good on that promise to move on."

Blaine eyed him cautiously. "When did you get so smart?"

"After Mom's funeral, Dad gave a speech, do you remember it?"

"A little."

"He said that love wasn't just about wanting to be with someone, it was also about wanting the best for someone?"

"Something about Mom bringing out the best in him?"

"Yeah, that's it. And there was this one bit which stuck out. He said that 'love is about making sure the people you love are happy'. Well, I kinda love you, little brother. Quite a bit actually. And I want you to be happy."

"You think Kurt will make me happy?"

"No, I think _you_ will make you happy. I think you're smarter than the rest of us and you don't need someone to make you happy. But I think that you love him enough to want to make him happy. And I bet he's the same for you, and what will make you both happy is being with each other and so the circle of life is complete and one of you becomes the grass, I'm not entirely sure who."

"You're insane," Blaine laughed.

"I'm not the one who snuck out of LA while the love of his life was away."

"You think I should go back?"

"I think... you should think about what you want to do next."

"Coop?" Blaine said as his brother got up from the couch. "Thanks."

"Any time."

 

~~

 

The couch was empty when Cooper got up the next morning. The blankets were folded neatly over the back and the pillow covers had been stripped. But the only real surprise for him was when he read Blaine's note and found out _where_ he had gone.

 

~~

 

Blaine scanned the arrivals hall, looking for that one familiar face. His heart pounded nervously in his chest. All he'd done was text his flight number and arrival time before the very nice flight attendant had reminded him one last time to turn off his cell phone. When he'd turned it on after arriving there hadn't been a reply so what if...?

The fear dissolved in his chest as a hand shot up and waved frantically at him. "Blaine! Blaine! Over here!"

He moved through the crowds until he was free of them. "Thank you so much for picking me up."

"It's fine. Although you do know Kurt's back in LA, right?"

"I wasn't sure, but I didn't come to see him."

"While I'm flattered, I'm married and you're hung up on my brother-in-law so..."

"Rachel—"

"Oh shush," she dismissed. "I know you still love him. Why else would you be here? Why else would you ask _me_ to come and meet you?"

"Maybe I just wanted to catch up?" Blaine smiled as she ushered him out of the terminal.

"Sure you do. Now — what do you want to know?"

"Everything," he said after a moment.

"You sure about that?"

"I think I need to know."

"OK. But first I need to make a call—"

"I don't want Kurt to know."

"I do know other people," she scowled.

"Or Finn."

"And I am capable of doing things without my husband."

"As always."

"So just shut up, hail us a cab, and let me make this call," she said, waving him away with her hand As he moved away towards the taxi rank the call connected. "Oh, hi, this is Rachel Berry? Yes, I need two tickets for tonight... Yes, I know you're officially sold out but we both know what that means... Listen, Bobby, you owe me a favour. I'm not even asking for the best seats, just decent ones. I need to bring someone to the show... Yes, it's important! Please. Do this and I will not only consider your debt repaid but I will owe you a favour..."

She smiled and nodded at Blaine as on the other end of the line Bobby managed to "find" two seats for tonight's show.

In the cab she gave the driver an intersection and sat back, just looking at Blaine. "You've not changed all that much. Little less gel maybe, but... still you."

"OK," Blaine said as he was unsure about what else he could say. "You on the other hand... New York and married life clearly suit you."

"That they do," she smiled.

"Any plans on the family front?" Blaine asked but when he saw the look on Rachel's face he wished he hadn't. "Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"No, it's fine, it's just... Not through lack of trying, put it that way."

"Right."

"Been almost a year now."

"That's really not that long, Rach. Some people try for years."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"It will happen."

"And how do you know that? I'm starting to think that it's not meant to be."

"Rach?"

"Hmmm?"

"There's a ten-year gap between me and Cooper. He wasn't planned, they tried for me. I know it will happen."

"I've missed you," Rachel laughed, shuffling over so she could rest her head on his shoulder. "You were always so... supportive."

"You make me sound like scaffolding."

Rachel laughed again. "You know what I mean. Whenever something went wrong, when Kurt was upset? You were there. NYADA, the play, everything."

"Of course I supported him. He was... I loved him."

"You still love him."

"I... don't know."

"I do," Rachel said. "Why else would you be here? You want to know everything because... Because you want to know if Kurt still loves you. And trust me when I say that he does."

"I just want to understand why he ended things. How he feels now—"

"Stephen proposed," Rachel said quickly.

"I know."

"Kurt said no."

Blaine wasn't quick enough to hide the hope flash across his face.

"They broke up."

"Because..."

"Because he's still in love with you."

"Did he tell you that?"

"He doesn't need to, Blaine."

"Then you don't—"

"I do," she said. "Come on," she smiled as the cab pulled up at their destination. "You want to know everything? Starts here."


	4. Chapter 4

**Conflict**

 

The coffee house was small and almost empty, but a steady stream of customers came through the door, got their drinks to go, and went. A couple of tables in the back were reserved for the few who chose to stay.

"We found this place in our first month," Rachel said. "The apartment we shared had some... noisy neighbours shall we say? So we'd come here to work or to talk or to just get out."

"Rach—"

"Medium drip and a chai latte please, to go but we'll wait in the back" she ordered, ignoring Blaine.

She paid and led him to a small table in the corner. When Blaine sat down he put his hands on the table which immediately rocked under the weight.

"This was ours," Rachel explained. "Kurt would fix it with a napkin or whatever, but before we left he'd always remove it. Said that if no one had bothered to do it for him, why should he for anyone else?"

"That's not like Kurt."

"First time he did it I thought he needed the napkin for something. So he wrote a quick shopping list on it and that was it. The start of something. Thank you," she said to the barista who brought their drinks over. "So every time after that he'd write something on the napkin. Usually 'call dad' or 'finish essay'. Then, one day," she said, reaching into her purse, "he wrote this. It was a couple of weeks before the end of our freshman year, just before he... wrote that letter. He didn't show it to me until after he'd mailed it, came home in tears and just showed me this in response."

Rachel held out a paper napkin that was old and frayed around the edges. Blaine took it from her and carefully unwrapped it. In the middle, in Kurt's perfect script, were five simple words.

 

 

"He knew what he was going to do, but it wasn't easy for him. He cried for two days after mailing it, and then you changed your Facebook relationship status and he barely said two words to me for a week. He was depressed, Blaine."

"I know it was hard on him, the letter said as much, but—"

"Come on," she said, once again cutting across him. She got to her feet, picking up her drink as she did so. "Next stop is a few blocks away."

"Is this some kind of guided tour of New York?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "But it's a very personal version."

Blaine just followed her, slipping the napkin into his coat pocket as he did so.

 

~~

 

The next stop on their tour was a chain bookshop, a far cry from the independent store they'd just been in. Blaine followed Rachel through the stacks as she picked out a path that she'd walked a hundred times before. She turned right sharply, so quickly that Blaine almost walked past her chosen row. A quick shuffle (reminding him that his feet still knew how to dance) and he was once again behind her as she scanned the shelves.

"Ah ha!" she declared, pulling a volume from the shelf. She flicked through the pages, smiling when she found a piece of paper slipped between two pages.

Without saying a word she removed it and held it out to Blaine.

 

 

"Come on," Rachel said, walking past him. "There's more to come."

"One second," Blaine said. He dug around in his bag, finding a pencil.

 

 

"OK," he said, putting the note back and turning to her. "Where to next?"

"Two more stops," she smiled. "Come on."

 

~~

 

Stop number three was an antique store, the owner of which was an old man who seemed to recognise Rachel on sight. The fact that they greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek and a hug only confirmed it.

"And this," Rachel said to the old man, "is Blaine."

" _The_ Blaine?" he asked, his face breaking out into a grin.

"Hi," he said, giving a small wave in confusion.

"This is Mr Thomas," Rachel introduced. "He and Kurt are two of a kind, both know a bargain and the real deal when they see it."

"Where's Kurt?" Mr Thomas asked.

"Still in LA," Rachel replied.

"Then what...?"

"I need you to show Blaine the ring."

"The ring?" Blaine spluttered.

"But..." Mr Thomas said.

"Look, Kurt broke up with Stephen for Blaine. I know that and you know that's true. But Blaine here doesn't and I need to prove to him that Kurt still loves him, even though he broke up with him. Please?"

"OK," Mr Thomas smiled. He went out the back for a moment and returned with a small box. "Your Kurt saw this on his first visit here. On the second I caught him staring at it, it took two more visits before he finally asked about it."

Mr Thomas opened the box and surprised Blaine. When Rachel had said ring he'd imagined an engagement or wedding ring, something for them. What was in the box was clearly a woman's ring.

"I don't understand," Blaine said.

"Kurt's mom had one just like it," Rachel said. "He has pictures. And when he saw it he wanted it."

"Put it on lay-away, paid it off month after month. Made the final payment in June," Mr Thomas said.

"June of our Freshman year," Rachel said. "A month after you two broke up."

"So? That ring...?" Blaine asked.

"He wanted the setting," Rachel said, taking the box from Mr Thomas' hands. She lifted the ring from it and revealed, underneath was a simpler, man's ring.

"I know a guy," Mr Thomas said. "Kurt asked about getting it done."

"He paid this off a month after sending the letter," Blaine said. "But he never picked it up. Why?"

"Final stop," Rachel said, slipping her hand into Blaine's. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to Mr Thomas' cheek.

"You tell Kurt it's here when he wants it," Mr Thomas said. "And it was lovely to finally meet you, Blaine."

"Yeah," Blaine breathed. "You too."

 

~~

 

He didn't need to ask why when the cab pulled up on the street. The billboards were enough so he said nothing when Rachel led him into the theatre for the evening performance of _Moments Passed_.

 

~~

 

Even though he knew it was rude, even though he had never done it before in his life, Blaine was out of his seat before the last notes of the finale had died down. He pushed his way to the end of the row and out of the theatre, stopping only when his feet were on the sidewalk and his lungs were gasping down the cool New York air.

"Blaine?" Rachel was at his side, her hand on his elbow. "Are you OK?"

"I... I didn't know."

"He didn't talk to you about his play?"

"Only the gist of it. That it was about him, moving on, finding... He never said..."

"The second I read it, I knew. It was the only way he could deal with it. Breaking up with you was the hardest thing he has ever done and I promise you, Alistair was only an excuse. He was cute and there was a little flirting but every time a guy showed the slightest bit of interest you know what the first words out of Kurt's mouth were? 'I have a boyfriend and I love him' and that was that. Every time, including Alistair.

"But he was the only one who didn't back off. Not in that way, just a friend. He was only ever a friend. If things had been different, sure, there might have been something in it. But Kurt has only ever loved you.

"When I tell you that Kurt loves you, this," she said, gesturing back to the theatre, "is how I know it. He wrote this about you, Blaine. It's not about him, it's about you. The boy lost? Thinking he needs to break free to find himself? It's about what he learned."

"Why would he lie to me?" Blaine asked. "Why would he...?"

"Because all you talked about was coming to New York at first and then there were other applications and he was worried that he was holding you back. That you were only going to come here for him, not because it was what you wanted."

"But I explained," Blaine said, "I told him that it was because Dad wanted me to—"

"He didn't know that _then_ ," Rachel stressed. "So he... set you free."

 

====================================

 

**Strike**

 

  


 

~~

 

Blaine excused himself, intending to just walk around to work out what his next move was going to be. Instead he found himself at Central Park, filling every cliché there was for this situation. Embracing it he found somewhere to sit and stayed there until the chill became too much.

He had his plan, it was putting it into action that was going to be the hard bit.

But worth it.

 

~~

 

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Rupert—"

"I'm telling you, you'd make it big."

"I'm doing just fine, thank you very much."

"No, you're doing fine. Broadway, LA. Next stop West End!"

"I don't want to come to England."

"Your flight leaves JFK tomorrow night, you'll be here in time for breakfast."

"I'm not coming to London."

"Your visa's all taken care of, I've rented you a nice flat near Covent Garden. You'll love it."

"I'm not coming to London, Rupert."

"Strictly speaking the Phoenix isn't West End but you're a new writer. It's a thousand seater, perfect for the play. They're excited to meet you—"

"Rupert! I'm not coming to London."

"—and they're already talking casting. As much as it pains me to say this, I'm trying to get them to hire an American for the lead; you know we have some good actors but I think that the audience would buy your small town American boy better if he were played by an actual American boy."

"I'm still not coming."

"I've forwarded you the e-ticket."

A small beep in Kurt's ear informed him of the email's arrival. "No."

"Anne and I can meet you at Heathrow if you want?"

"That won't be necessary."

"OK, if you're sure. Don't try and navigate the Tube though, OK? Get a taxi. I know it takes longer but trust me. Londoners love playing 'spot the tourist' on the Tube. And you'd only get wound up at the constant delays. Come to think of it, there's going to be works on the Piccadilly line so you'd not be able to come direct."

"It really doesn't matter."

"Oh it does. You'd have to change to the District and Circle, then get the Northern line and then a walk and I can just see you with your cases and your map and trying to follow my directions which, let's face it, are not the best. I get lost in a one street town. Cabbies have SatNav these days, I'll email you the postcode."

"No, Rupert—"

"Door to door service. We've got an account you can charge it to, so no need to keep an eye on the meter."

"You are not giving up on this, are you?"

"And before you yell at me, no I did not book you on a British Airways flight on purpose."

"And you're not listening to me at all, are you?" Kurt sighed.

"I make it my business not to," Rupert replied. "Only gets in the way."

"You've already announced the play, haven't you?"

"Speaks the man who's not checked Twitter. Early feedback looks good."

"You're fired."

"No, I'm not," Rupert said. "I'm worth every penny of my fee and percentage and you know it."

"Do I get any say over this?"

"If you want," Rupert said, "but it probably won't get you anywhere."

"How on earth does Anne put up with you?" Kurt laughed.

"I don't know, but I..."

"What?"

"I thought I'd better do something about it before she came to her senses."

"Rupert!" Kurt exclaimed. "That's fantastic news. She said yes I take it?"

"I made sure I caught her in a moment of weakness," he laughed. "So you need to come over here because I need my Best Man."

"I'm sure you can think of better candidates."

"Like who?"

"Your brothers? Your nephew who you never stop talking about? Anne's brother who is your best friend and actually introduced the two of you? Adam who is your school friend and business partner?"

"Yeah, but none of them are you. And I reckon if my Best Man is gay then not only will you stop me choosing a suit which is a fashion monstrosity but you also won't hit on any of the bridesmaids."

"And that's it? My fashion sense and my choice of partner?"

"You can bring Blaine as your plus one if you want?"

"Subtle," Kurt sighed, "but pointless. I've not heard from him since... Since."

"I thought you were going to call him?"

"He left, Rupert. He... doesn't want me."

"All the more reason you should come across the Pond and spend time with your two favourite Brits."

"You want me to run away?"

"From what?" Rupert asked. "You said he's gone, right? You and Stephen broke up and you've been living in your brother's spare room for the last two months. You've had no luck finding a flat—"

"This side, we tend to call it an apartment."

"—of your own so come and spend some time in a _flat_ that is lovely and beautiful and perfect for you in a city which I know you will adore. And while you're here you can see if your play appeals to the sophistication of the British sense of humour..."

"I know what you're trying to do."

"And what is that exactly?"

"You're trying to wind me up."

"Is it working?" Rupert asked.

"You're paying for breakfast when I arrive," Kurt scowled.

"Well, technically _you_ will be given you pay my wages."

"Shut up, Rupert," Kurt said, ending the call. He checked the flight information on his phone, noting it was an open return ticket, and wondered what the hell he should pack for an indeterminate time in London. Then again, he thought as he looked around his room, most of his stuff was still in cases so he may as well take most of it.

 

~~

 

Kurt hated flying. He hated check-in lines and he hated waiting areas filled with screaming kids. He hated them more when they were in the rows directly behind him. He hated the long haul and he hated the jet lag. He hated the baggage claim and he hated the momentary doubt and fear that came when most of the passengers had gone but his bags still hadn't appeared. He hated the long line at the taxi rank and he hated, hated, hated London traffic.

But the one thing that he was hating most of all?

 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _6.20am_  
** Minor drama. Don't panic. 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _6.22am_  
** OK, not so minor. Maybe panic a little. 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _6.35am_  
** Yeah, we can panic now. 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _6.35am_  
** Shit, you're still on the plane. Right. Headlines. Actor attached to lead role in car accident last night. Well, he wasn't in the car. It hit him. He can't take the role. 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _6.37am_  
** I feel I should say that he's fine, broken ankle. Insert irony here?! 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _6.40am_  
** I'm working on a replacement. Can't have you arriving to a lead-less cast. 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _6.41am_  
** Oh, I told you we'd cast the show, right? Because if not... surprise? 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _6.43am_  
** Nope, checked my emails. Not told you. Sorry. Yeah. Show cast. They're amazing people, you'll love them. 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _7.05am_  
** OK, might have a lead. Almost certain of it. Waiting for one last piece to fall into place. Go straight to the Phoenix when you land. 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _7.10am_  
** You know where that is, right? 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _7.15am_  
** Charing Cross Road, WC2H 0JG. Do not get the train. I repeat, do not get the train. Taxi it. 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _7.50am_  
** You should have landed half an hour ago. Heathrow website said you landed half an hour ago. You're ignoring my texts, aren't you? 

**Kurt Hummel  
 _7.51am_  
** Yes. 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _7.52am_  
** Excellent. New potential lead will meet you at the theatre. Be nice. 

**Kurt Hummel  
 _7.55am_  
** I'm tired. I'm on the wrong side of the Atlantic, I'm tired and on the wrong side of the Atlantic in a cab on the wrong side of the road and to top it all off I need to find a new publicist because my current one is taking far too many liberties. 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _8.01am_  
** Look, I know I'm pushing my luck but just trust me on this one. Go to the theatre and have a look at everything. If you don't like it we'll pull the plug. We'll change anything you want. I know you – you like complete ideas. So I'm giving you a complete idea. 

**Rupert (my link to British royalty) Andrews  
 _8.05am_  
** All I'm asking for is a little trust. Have I ever let you down? 

**Kurt Hummel  
 _8.06am_  
** Fine. 

 

====================================

**Blindside**

 

When he arrived at the theatre Kurt had finally decided how he felt. Since landing and switching on his cell to Rupert's text barrage and hailing a cab – taxi? – to do the slow crawl from Heathrow to the centre of London he had gone through annoyance, frustration, anger, outrage and even violent thoughts. But as he pulled up outside the Phoenix he'd settled for resignation.

Not that he was happy with Rupert organising the whole thing without him but, as he kept reminding himself, if it weren't for Rupert then the show would never have seen the stage in the first place. Broadway, LA... West End? It was logical and he knew it. More than that, Rupert knew it.

"Mr Hummel?" a young woman said as she greeted him. "I'm Lucy, one of Rupert's PAs."

"Nice to meet you," Kurt said, shaking her offered hand. "And Mr Hummel is my dad, call me Kurt."

"Kurt," she smiled, looking down at his bags. "Want a hand?"

"Just need somewhere to put them. Rupert said he'd arranged an apartment?"

Lucy gave a small shrug as she grabbed the handle of one of his bags. "He's not said anything to me but he's been busy replacing the lead."

"What's he like?" Kurt asked. "What's the whole cast like come to think of it?" he laughed.

"There's a dress rehearsal this afternoon," Lucy said as they walked in and she handed Kurt's bag to someone in the cloakroom, waiting while Kurt passed over the second one. "The lead's the only one here right now, I'll see if I can find him."

"Thanks, Lucy."

"The set went up this morning. How about you go check it out and I'll bring him to you?"

Kurt walked through the door she indicated and stepped into the theatre. As he walked down the centre aisle his critical eye ran over the sets, finding them to be (annoyingly) perfect. He pulled himself up onto the stage and turned, looking out over the stalls, up to the balconies, and he sighed. Rupert had been right – it was perfect.

 

**Kurt Hummel  
 _8.31am_  
** OK, I like the theater. You get that one. Meeting your cast this afternoon, can't promise I won't fire them. 

**Rupert (my link to the British royalty) Andrews  
 _8.33am_  
** This side we call it a theatre. And you'll love them. When are you meeting the lead? 

**Kurt Hummel  
 _8.33am_  
** Soon. Lucy's hunting him down. And he's your lead. 

**Rupert (my link to the British royalty) Andrews  
 _8.35am_  
** Actually, he's yours. 

**Kurt Hummel  
 _8.36am_  
** What? 

**Rupert (my link to the British royalty) Andrews  
 _8.37am_  
** He's *your* lead. You can thank me later. 

**Kurt Hummel  
 _8.38am_  
** I have no idea what you are going on about. 

**Rupert (my link to the British royalty) Andrews  
 _8.40am_  
** Trust me. And thank me later. 

**Kurt Hummel  
 _8.40am_  
** And why would I want to do either of those things? 

**Rupert (my link to the British royalty) Andrews  
 _8.41am_  
** Plenty of reasons. But just listen to him first, OK? 

**Kurt Hummel  
 _8.42am_  
** You're making less sense than normal. 

**Rupert (my link to the British royalty) Andrews  
 _8.43am_  
** I won't be in a minute. 

 

"Kurt?" he heard Lucy's voice call just as the last message came through. "Everything OK?"

"Rupert," he sighed, closing down the message app and locking the phone. "Thinks he's got everything set up perfectly."

"He's good at what he does," Lucy said. "I'd like to introduce you to our lead."

Kurt finally turned to look at her – them – and didn't need to hear what she said.

"Kurt Hummel? Blaine Anderson."

"Blaine?" Kurt managed to say.

"He auditioned for Rupert this morning – we were lucky. He's done theatre in LA, and he's an amazing singer," Lucy said, seemingly not noticing the fact that the two of them had locked eyes. "Anyway, I'll let you two talk for a bit."

"You're in London," Kurt said when they were alone.

"Obviously," Blaine replied.

"No, but... London? Why? Since when?"

"Since I left New York."

"When were you in New York?"

"After Vancouver," Blaine said, then laughed softly. "I went to see Coop, then I was in New York for a week but I've been here about two months now."

"But... why? I thought you were trying to crack LA?"

"I got a job offer."

"Here?"

Blaine nodded. "The lead."

Kurt hesitated for a moment, reading Blaine's expression. " _This_ lead? But I thought that happened this morning?"

"Little subterfuge," Blaine grinned.

"But... why?" Try as he might Kurt's brain was only coming up with questions – he was trying to remember any of the things he'd wanted to tell Blaine months ago.

"Listen, OK?" Blaine asked. "Just... listen. I came here so I could be with you. Rupert was bringing _Moments Passed_ to the West End and you were going to be here at some point. So I came too. I came here so that we can be together."

"You came to London... for me?"

"Of course."

"...Why?" Kurt's brain defaulted to again.

"Because I... oh to hell with it," Blaine said, moving forward quickly. One hand slid around Kurt's waist, the other held his jaw and then, _then_ they kissed.

Every 'why' question Kurt had was answered when he felt Blaine's touch and he quickly responded, hands grabbing what they could to hold him close, keep him close, and never ever _ever_ let him be out of reach again.

"I saw the play," Blaine said, slightly breathless and his voice shaking as they parted a little. "I saw the play and Rachel showed me the notes and the ring and she said you broke up with Stephen..."

Kurt pulled him back in for another kiss, bodies flush against each other as his mind finally worked out what all this meant. But...

"You wanted LA," Kurt said, abruptly pulling away, "not this. You gave up everything—"

"For you, and I'd do it again," Blaine interrupted. "I want to be here. I need to be here. Because you are."

"Blaine—"

"Tell me you wouldn't do it for me," Blaine challenged. "Tell me that if there was somewhere I needed to be, if you weren't tied to a place... tell me you wouldn't follow me."

"You're sure about this?" Kurt whispered.

"I'm sure about _you_. I'm sure about _us_. And I know that you want this too."

"Blaine..."

"You broke up with Stephen and according to everyone who knows you in New York you did it because you—"

"Yes," Kurt breathed, moving in for another kiss. The pair of them fought for dominance, tongues and hands and pressure against the other's body. "Always yes."

"Then let me be here," Blaine whispered, his lips ghosting along Kurt's jaw. "I want to be here, I need to be here... I would have come to New York for me, for _us_."

"You saw the play?"

"I saw it."

"And?"

"And I get why you didn't tell me about it in LA," Blaine laughed softly as he buried his head in the crook of Kurt's neck.

"I didn't break up with Stephen for you," Kurt said. "I did it for me. I loved him, I did, but not how I should. Not how you should love someone who proposes to you. Not how you should love... the person you want to spend the rest of your life with."

"And I didn't end things with Charlie for you," Blaine replied. "I promise you," he whispered, arms tightening around Kurt, "that I did this for _me_. Because this is what I want."

"Me too," Kurt laughed. "So much. Please tell me this is real, tell me that we're done walking away..."

Blaine pulled back, laughing softly. "I'm done. You?"

"Yeah. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I—"

"Shut up," Blaine growled, pulling him in for a kiss.

"Really?" Lucy's voice interrupted them as their mouths met. "I would have thought it would have taken you a bit longer. I was hoping for arguments or something."

"Sorry," Blaine said, moving apart from Kurt but not away.

"So this was just one big set up?" Kurt asked.

"Pretty much," Lucy grinned. "But even I didn't think you'd hook up this quickly."

"Hook... _hook up_?" Kurt spluttered. "I have been in love with this guy since I was sixteen."

"He's got a few months on me," Blaine added, his arm tight around Kurt's waist, "but I plan on spending the rest of my life trying to catch up."

"Well, I'm sorry to pull you away but your wardrobe just arrived, Blaine, and we need to do a fitting. I'd invite you, Kurt, but somehow I think it'd be counterproductive." She smiled and nodded behind her. "You have two minutes before I turn the fire extinguisher on you both."

"You wouldn't," Kurt said.

"Ask my little brother that question then think again," Lucy called over her shoulder as she stepped into the wings.

"I'll be quick," Blaine whispered, kissing by Kurt's ear.

"I'll wait," Kurt replied, turning his head to steal a kiss. "We've got time."

"All of it."

 

~~

 

**Rupert (my link to the British royalty) Andrews  
 _9.15am_  
** Forgive me? 

**Kurt Hummel  
 _9.25am_  
** Jury's out. 

**Rupert (my link to the British royalty) Andrews  
 _9.27am_  
** Apartment is on Drury Lane (yes, it's real), Blaine has the address. 

**Kurt Hummel  
 _9.28am_  
** Is this part of your set up? 

**Rupert (my link to the British royalty) Andrews  
 _9.28am_  
** It's part of me making sure you don't run off again. 

 

~~

 

Kurt took a seat at the back of the theatre with his notepad on his knees while the whole cast did a complete run through. The ease with which Blaine performed with them only confirmed that he'd not been cast that morning and yet Kurt couldn't bring himself to be mad.

Blaine was a perfect Dylan Birch and he couldn't fault any of the other performers either. A few of the lines had been changed which he scribbled down. He assumed that it was to suit the British audience but he would check it as soon as he could. Eventually they finished and Kurt gripped the arms of his seat to keep him in place while Blaine said his goodbyes to the cast, eventually jumping down from the stage with his bag swung over his shoulder.

"Ready to go?" Kurt asked. "According to Rupert you know where I'm staying. Somewhere on Drury Lane?"

Blaine grinned and nodded. "I know just the place, come on. It's quicker to walk this time of the evening and you'll love it anyway."

"Sure I will," Kurt smiled, getting to his feet and falling into step beside Blaine.

They retrieved Kurt's bags from the cloakroom, sharing the weight between them for the walk back; a bag in one hand, a hand in the other. They started off making conversation but soon Kurt was too engrossed in his surroundings and so Blaine left him to appreciate in silence, steering him through side streets with gentle pulls and tugs on his hand.

Eventually they arrived at an apartment block and Blaine reluctantly let go of Kurt's hand to pull a set of keys from his pocket. He opened the main door and held it open behind him for Kurt before leading him up the two flights of stairs.

"Here, I think you should do the honours," Blaine said as they arrived outside the door. He held out the keys to Kurt with a grin. "After you."

"What is going on?" Kurt asked as he dropped his bag on the floor and took the keys. "Blaine?"

"Just... trust me and trust Rupert and open the door."

"If there's a distasteful gift basket in the bedroom I will kill the pair of you," Kurt muttered, opening the door. He picked up his bag and walked in, dropping it down in the middle of the room. "This is your place, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "There is an apartment for you, if you want it, but it's not available for a few days. And there are two rooms so please don't think I'm expecting anything, or there's a hotel room booked if you..."

He didn't get any further because Kurt had pulled him in close. "It's fine," he grinned. "I don't mind."

"I did try and talk Rupert out of it when he suggested it," Blaine said. "I thought it might be a step too far."

"Blaine—"

"Because I'm not rushing this, I don't want to risk screwing this up."

"Blaine—"

"This is too important."

"Blaine!" Kurt laughed. "I said it's fine. Really."

"You sure?"

In response Kurt kissed him. "Really."

"Good," Blaine growled, pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

 

====================================

 

**Engagement**

 

They had planned on taking it slow. They talked about taking it slow. They wanted to take it slow but after dinner and a few drinks and a heated make out session Kurt was shirtless and Blaine's was half off. Kurt's hands were on his stomach, fingers pushing up Blaine's chest to his shoulders to push his shirt off all the way.

Then he stopped.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked when he noticed Kurt pulling back. "Are you OK?"

"What happened?" Kurt asked, his finger running down a faint line down the left side of Blaine's chest.

"Oh, that? Graduation celebrations at SFU can get a little... lively," he laughed. "Still not sure what happened but a window broke and I was in the crossfire... Kurt?"

"So much has changed," Kurt whispered, his fingers running down the faint scar. "I used to know everything about you..."

"And you will again, I promise," Blaine said.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt repeated. He looked up at Blaine, meeting his eyes.

When Blaine saw the tears brimming he reached out, pulling him in close. "It's OK, I promise. It'll be OK."

"Can we... just not?" Kurt asked eventually. "I want to, but..."

"It's fine," Blaine assured him, pressing a kiss into his hair. "There's a spare room if you...?"

"No," Kurt said quickly. "This is..."

"Then can I suggest we move to the bedroom before we get cricks in our neck?" he laughed. "Come on you."

They struggled to untangle themselves and stand, moving through to the master bedroom. They quickly changed and climbed into bed.

"Better?" Blaine asked as Kurt settled against his side, head resting on his shoulder. "You must be exhausted."

"Been a very, very long day," Kurt hummed. "But a good one."

Blaine kissed the top of Kurt's head and let his fingers run patterns across his skin. "Best day." There was a moment of silence in which Blaine wondered if Kurt had fallen asleep but he still whispered, "Please don't take the other apartment."

Kurt's arm tightened around his waist. "I'm going nowhere," he said, his voice heavy with sleep and contentment.

 

~~

The next week was lost in a blur of final rehearsals and preview screenings. Every morning Blaine left for the theatre, leaving Kurt with a kiss, and every evening he returned to stories of his London discoveries and a home cooked meal. They talked about high school and The Letter and Los Angeles and that thing that once scared them both – the future. Their future.

And the nights were theirs to rediscover the others, the marks and changes in the other's body, showing and learning new tricks to make the other gasp and writhe under and over them.

The opening night of the play was sold out, Kurt sat in his traditional seat; a little over halfway back on the left hand side, hiding in the crowd and watching the crowd more than the show itself, trying to gauge reactions and holding his breath in anticipation.

When they rose to their feet in a standing ovation Kurt rose with them, his eyes never leaving Blaine as he clapped and cheered and felt his heart swell with pride and love.

 

~~

 

 

~~

 

Kurt made his way backstage, trying to be polite to those who wanted to congratulate him on a successful opening night, and yet leave them behind quickly so he could find the one person he did want to see. In the end he was saved as Rupert and Anne appeared beside him, ushering him through the crowds until he found Blaine.

"You were perfect," Kurt declared, throwing himself into Blaine's arms.

"I messed up the opening line of the second act," Blaine laughed.

"You made it better."

"You're a writer, you're supposed to be protective of your stuff."

"I trust you," Kurt said.

"I won't let you regret it," Blaine said quietly.

"I hate to be the one to break up this touching scene," Rupert said, "but there's a party to get to."

"I think we'll..." Kurt started but he was silenced by a look from Rupert "Do we have to?"

"Do the lead and the writer of what _The Times_ is calling the 'new must see of the season' have to come out and play?" Rupert said. "Yes. Deal with it. You can go home and... cuddle later," he grinned.

Blaine laughed and kissed Kurt once before going to grab his bag from his dressing room. Then they were reunited and, once more hand in hand, they stepped from the theatre (pausing for a moment to sign the programs of those who'd waited by the stage door) and out into the night.

In the small hours of the morning they returned to their flat (which they had taken to saying in faux British accents) and were upon each other as soon as they stepped through the door. Kurt had Blaine pressed up against the wall, his body pinning him where his hands weren't, his mouth sucking and licking and _oh god yes_ biting at every piece of exposed skin he could get.

"Kurt," Blaine growled as he tried to move them from the hallway to the bedroom.

"God I want you," Kurt replied, slotting a leg between Blaine's.

"No..." Blaine managed to say, the one word which cut through Kurt's lust and had him pulling back in shock and confusion. "No, Kurt, I..." Blaine stopped, taking Kurt's face in his hands. "I love you."

"I know," Kurt smiled in relief.

"I know you know, but when did I last say it to you?"

"You..." Kurt started before he realised. "I love you too."

"I know we've said it," Blaine said, "but I need to tell _you_. I'm in love with you, Kurt Hummel, and I know I will be for the rest of my life. You are it, you have always been the one."

"And you for me," Kurt replied, resting his forehead on Blaine's. "I am so sorry I ruined things — but I promise, I will never let it happen again. I am never letting you go and I will make sure that you know, every day for the rest of our lives together, just how much I love you."

"Well," Blaine grinned, "how about you start right now?"

Kurt kissed him until he couldn't anymore for laughter and then the pair of them moved to the bedroom.

 

~~

 

The apartment was dark when Blaine got home so he left his things on the couch and slipped into the bedroom, finding Kurt already under the covers. Undressing quickly he climbed in, curling around Kurt's warm body and feeling him shift against him.

"You're in bed early," Blaine whispered against the back of his neck. "You OK?"

Kurt said nothing, just put his hand over the one resting on his stomach.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, his voice a little louder.

Almost immediately Kurt turned, burying himself against Blaine's chest as he started to cry. Blaine just held him in place, his hand rubbing up and down Kurt's back until he'd calmed and their room was silent again.

"Tell me," Blaine whispered.

"I..."

"I want to know. Whatever it is, I want to know."

Kurt pushed to sit up so Blaine did too, resting against the headboard. For a moment Kurt seemed to be studying him until he said two words. Not quite a question but an implicit one all the same.

"Marry me."

 

~~

 

It took Kurt a few moments to follow Blaine out of the bedroom, finding him in their kitchenette with a glass of water in his hand.

"Not the reaction I was hoping for," Kurt said.

"Not the response I was expecting when I asked you to tell me why you were crying," Blaine retorted. "So... why the proposal?"

"Because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"But... why now?"

"Because it seemed like the right time."

"Now? We've been back together for five minutes—"

"Six months," Kurt interjected.

"—and you want us to get married?"

"Over here they call it a civil partnership, but I'm pretty sure it'd be recognised as marriage back home. I'll look into it. And think about it, Blaine. Married in London, we could honeymoon in Europe. You've always wanted to go to Paris, Italy, Greece... We could travel around, see as much of it while it's easy and we can."

"While we can?" Blaine asked.

"I just meant..."

"Something you're not telling me," Blaine finished.

"You know I want to marry you, I have done for a long time. So can you just say yes and we can go to bed and—"

"Tell me," Blaine said quietly as he put down his glass. "Please."

"Dad called," Kurt said, his voice breaking a little. "He's fine... but he wasn't. He had 'a turn'," Kurt said, miming the air quotes and mimicking his father's tone, "and he was in the hospital and for a few hours they were really worried. But they decided not to call me until they knew and then they did know and Dad didn't want me coming over so they waited until he was out of hospital. I missed it. I missed everything because I'm over here and..."

"And you miss them," Blaine finished. "You want to go home, don't you?"

Kurt just nodded.

"Oh love, you don't need my permission for that! Book your flights!"

"No, it's not that. I just..."

Blaine nodded. "You want to go home."

"I never realised how much I miss everything and everyone until that call tonight and you weren't here and I wanted you to be and I don't want to leave you here and I'm torn..." Kurt managed to get out before he started to cry again.

When Blaine started to move Kurt thought he was going to hug him, hold him once more, and so he was surprised when Blaine moved past him, going instead to his bag on the couch. From it he pulled out a letter which he handed to Kurt.

 

 

"You quit?" Kurt asked, not bothering to read the whole thing. "Why?"

"Because Burt sent me an email," Blaine said. "He sent it before he spoke to you, telling me everything. I got it just before the show so I called Rupert and I quit."

"Why?"

"Because I knew you'd want to go home and that you wouldn't want to leave me here."

"No, you can't do this—"

"I already have."

"Blaine—"

"If you're about to do the whole 'you can't just give things up to follow me' speech then let me stop you there. The only reason I'm in London is for you. The play was just my way of getting a visa and being here. Rupert always knew that I'd stay as long as you did.

"You told me that I could be on Broadway and I'd like to give that a go. I headlined a West End musical for six months, that has got to look good on my resume. And more to the point," Blaine said softly as he closed the gap between them, "we can get _married_ in New York. You can get that ring and have it made the way you want it to. Then you can tell me which ring I'm getting you and we can do it properly, with everyone we care about."

"Blaine—"

"Two weeks and I'm done. If you need to go now then we'll get you on a flight tomorrow and I will come and join you the second I can."

Kurt's eyes welled up for a different reason and he was pretty sure he managed to get out an "I love you" before he kissed him.

"So..." Blaine said, pulling Kurt in close. "Do you still want to get married here or do you want to wait?"

"I want to marry you," Kurt said.

"And I want to marry you. And I will. Yes. Always yes."

"I... can I sleep on it?"

Blaine laughed. "Which part? The marriage bit or the leaving bit?"

"...All of it?" Kurt laughed. "I want to go and see Dad, I do, but Carole swears he's OK and he's taking things easy and I don't want to leave you for two weeks."

"I'm a big boy now, I can look after myself. Did it for seven years."

"I know, I know. I just... I'll let you know in the morning, OK?"

"OK," Blaine said, kissing him gently. "Come on, back to bed."

 

~~

 

When Blaine woke up in the morning Kurt's side of the bed was empty. He stretched out under the covers, working out limbs which had spent the best part of the night curled protectively around Kurt. Once he was sure that his legs would work as they were intended for he pushed the covers back and got up.

Kurt was in the kitchenette working on breakfast, and smiled at Blaine when he saw him. Silently he nodded at the laptop computer open on the table so Blaine walked over, sitting in the chair and reading the email open on the screen.

 

From : K_Hummel@ColonialTalent.com  
To : burt@hummeltyreslube.com  
Subject : Homecoming

Dad,

I know that you and Carole said you're fine but you can't expect me to stay here! Blaine and I are flying back in a couple of weeks when he's finished with the show – and we're coming back for good.

I can hear you yelling now, telling me that this is my big break, the best thing to happen to me, that I'd be a fool to give it up. Thing is, Dad, I'm not. I'm not giving up the best thing to happen to me because he's coming home with me.

And more than that — we're getting married.

I would have loved to have told you this face to face but I can't wait and I can't keep it from you and I wanted to give you a reason to not cut me out of anything ever again. Because if you ever leave it that late to tell me something that important then you are never going to see any of the grandkids, am I clear?!

I'll let you know when we've booked flights but we'll be coming straight to Ohio. Don't worry about picking us up from the airport, OK? I don't want you doing anything except resting because I need you to be around for the wedding and everything else.

You were the only person who never asked me why I ended things with Blaine all those years ago, you just let me get on with it. Everyone else, including Carole, kept asking me why and what had gone wrong. You knew, didn't you? You knew that nothing had gone wrong and you knew why I did it. Yet you never once yelled at me for it. You just let me get on with things.

And now I realise that's exactly what you've been doing my whole adult life and I love you for it but you need to look after yourself because I want to have the option of you interfering and telling me I'm being stupid and when the baby is screaming at three in the morning and won't shut up I need someone around to tell me that I'm not the worst dad in the world and that's your job, OK? Be around to do it.

We'll be home soon.

Love,  
Kurt  
(and Blaine!)

 

Kurt slid his arms over Blaine's shoulders, half hugging him around his chest. "OK?" he whispered.

"OK," Blaine replied, putting a hand on one of Kurt's arms. He closed down the window and turned slightly in the chair, allowing Kurt to come around and sit on his lap.

"I feel it only fair to warn you that I will probably be very obsessive about the wedding."

"I feel it only fair to warn you that unless you give me explicit instructions and a list I'm probably going to end up annoying you during the planning."

"I'm going to want some pretty specific stuff," Kurt teased.

"I'm just going to want to marry you," Blaine said, his arms looping around Kurt's waist.

"I think we're going to get along just fine," Kurt laughed just before Blaine kissed him. "You should have breakfast, you'll be late for the theatre otherwise."

"So I'm late," Blaine said. "Being late for something worked out in my favour once."

"You and me both," Kurt smiled as he lowered his head for a kiss, breakfast be damned.

_~fin~_


End file.
